


Livin' The Fairytale

by seki



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rush has to earn a living somehow. And if the gorgeous, wealthy Marquis of Athlum wants to hire his services exclusively for a whole week, well, suddenly earning a living just became a hell of a lot more comfortable and enjoyable.</p><p>--</p><p>It's a Pretty Woman AU, because why not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is all yukiscorpio's fault.

David strode out of the Congress building, rather pleased with the evening's work. Another few meetings like that, and he'd have a fine array of supporters when he made his bid for Athlum's independence. He stood near the balcony that looked down over Assembly Plaza, and heaved in a few deep breaths.

Independence.

That was all his world had narrowed to, of late. Freedom from Celapaleis, the ability to steer his country's future in the direction more advantageous to his people, not to their neighbours. His single-mindedness seemed to amuse older rulers like Hermeien and Ghor, but as long as he didn't neglect his other duties as Marquis, David couldn't see that he had much to apologise for.

A long shadow fell upon the railing to his left, and David smiled faintly.

"Torgal."

"Lord David." Torgal sounded disapproving, but then, he often did. "The mining representatives have retired to the Assembly's library for refreshments. It might be beneficial for you to stay and mingle further. They may have more--"

"I think I've obtained all the information from them I need for the agreements," David said, smoothly. The miners had been reasonable enough men -- so reasonable, in fact, that David was liable to start feeling guilt over the rather advantageous deal they'd wrung out of them. Best to distance himself, before that happened. "Do you actually need my presence?"

"Are you planning on returning to the Embassy already?"

"I think so. I still have those agreements with the smallholders around Fornstrand to review. Perhaps if I start early, I might still be able to have a full night's sleep."

"Very well. Then if you'll allow me to accompany--"

"No need." David rolled his shoulders, feeling the stiffness in them. "This is the safest city in the Empire, and I'm more than capable of keeping my hand on my purse until I get back to the Embassy. Stay. See if those miners have more ideas to share about productivity."

Torgal's shadow shifted in a way that indicated discomfort at the idea, but all he said was, "Very well, Lord David."

\--

Rush stared at himself in the mirror, and then rolled his sleeves up another turn, higher up his arms, and inspected the result critically. It really made him look like he was trying too hard, he thought, wrinkling his nose, especially combined with the tight pants and the slicked-back hair and the cheap jewellery.

But then, he was supposed to look sort of obvious. This sort of outfit was practically a uniform. If he didn't dress like this, he wouldn't get any customers, because people wouldn't know what he was selling. He heaved in a sigh, and tried his _business_ smile on again. Not wide enough to look innocent, but genuine-looking enough to flatter people. Yeah. That'd work.

Khrynia'd already gone out, leaving a note in the rent tin saying she'd had to borrow from it again. Rush scowled in irritation, though in fairness he'd been about to do the same thing just so he could afford something to eat. Ah well. He'd eaten earlier, after his shift at the cafe, and that would hold him until tomorrow if it had to.

Khrynia had this stupid fixation about getting into business for herself. It probably wasn't even stupid, it was just that she didn't seem to have a very good plan for how to do it. She bought things impulsively -- weapons, medicine, armour -- and then she'd try to find buyers who'd want the very precise item she'd bought. She figured it was a good way to make a name for herself as an investor and trader. And sometimes, sure, it worked and she made a little profit, but the thing was that it wasn't _dependable_.

Very little was, in the slums.

Rush tucked his ankle daggers into the tops of his boots, where the hilts would be just visible enough to put any troublemakers off, and inspected himself again. Good enough.

He let himself out of the building, treading as lightly as possible to get past the landlord's room on the lower floor; the qsiti was a good sort but Rush had to admit that he and Khrynia had been pushing their luck a little. This week's money wasn't due until tomorrow, technically. If Rush could just find a couple of customers tonight, it would be fine. If he could just get the money back off Khrynia, _one_ customer would be enough.

Out on the street, he glanced up at the huge spiral of Elysion, towering over them and gleaming white against the dark sky, and sent a quick prayer for custom towards it. The temples were always a bit vague on whether the Remnant heard them, and Rush couldn't say he really believed it made any difference, but it couldn't _hurt_ and really… he needed all the luck he could get.

He wandered down to the main street that led from the city gates up towards Hendler; the guards there turned a blind eye to transactions like the ones he was after. Not that it was illegal, but the stiffnecks up by Tula Street tended to glare at anyone who looked like they didn't intend to spend a fortune in the shops there. That sort of place set everyone on edge. Why make things more uncomfortable than they had to be? Rush looked around for a decent spot, settling after a moment for leaning against one of the lamp-posts outside a busy bar.

Hiraan Street was wide enough to accommodate a flow of carts and carriages in both directions. The raised paving along the sides, however, was where Rush would find his customers, as long as he looked approachable enough. People didn't tend to stroll around here unless they wanted the sort of services he and Khrynia could offer. He ran his hand over his hair, making sure it was slicked back into place, and puffed out his chest a little, and smiled encouragingly at likely prospects as they walked past. 

"Hey," came a familiar voice from behind him, before Khrynia's arm snuck around his waist from behind. "How's it hanging, handsome?"

"Leave off, you'll make people think I'm busy," Rush said, rolling his eyes and turning to face his roommate. "And what did you blow all our rent on this time, hmm?"

Khrynia dimpled up at him from beneath that ridiculous hat of hers. "This. I just saw it, and, O-M-G, I had to have it."

She held up a little orb, the sort people used for learning combat spells; this one glowed a soft yellow, and Rush pursed his lips appreciatively. If that'd only cost her their savings for this week, it _was_ a hell of a good deal. "How much did it set you back?"

"More than I had." Khrynia held up a hand, before Rush could object. "It's totally worth five times what I paid. I just… owe Jori an extra few hundred, that's all."

Jori. Great. Jori had a habit of charging interest on loans, and he wasn't all that gentle about how he made people pay him back, either. "Well, that's just great. Found a buyer for it yet?"

"Nope." Khrynia tucked it away into her purse, and shrugged. "Like, why would I be out here like this if I had? Get real."

That was a good point. "Then we'll both need to earn tonight, you hear? Meet me in a couple of hours back at home, and we'll--"

Khrynia elbowed him, sharply, and inclined her head to their left, raising her eyebrows appreciatively. Rush risked a glance.

Whoa. The guy… well, he didn't look like the sort of customer you got around here, usually. They tended to be older, and not nearly so handsome. And this guy was dressed expensively, too. A guy like that didn't usually _need_ to hire company. Maybe he was just passing through? But he wasn't walking purposefully enough for that -- he was looking for something around here, for sure. Huh. Rush glanced over at Khrynia, who was practically purring in delight at the sight.

Rush readied his best smile.

And the guy breezed past them both, head held high, as if he didn't even notice they existed. Damn.

Beside him, Khrynia sort of deflated.

"Too good to be true," Rush sighed, and he dragged his gaze off the guy's back reluctantly. "Never mind."

Khrynia shrugged, and pushed herself up away from the lamp-post. "Yeah. It's deadsville around here tonight, you know? I'm gonna cruise down to the gates, and--"

A startled yell down the street turned both their heads, and a scrawny street urchin came barrelling up the paving towards them. Without thinking, Rush stuck out his leg to trip the kid; nobody ran like that unless they were up to no good.

The kid sprawled to the ground, dropping the belt-purse he'd been clutching and a short dagger. Rush planted his foot on the kid's back, quickly, so he couldn't get away. Khrynia grabbed the purse, and kicked the blade away sideways, so it rolled off the edge and down the metre or so into the road. Smart thinking. Thieving was bad enough, but if the kid got panicked he might get slashy with his knife and that wouldn't end well for anyone.

They both looked down the street where the kid had come from. Their non-customer from before was jogging towards them, scowling fiercely.

"We got him," Khrynia called, her voice _dripping_ with sweetness.

"My thanks," said the man, with a sort of half-bow of his head. "If I might have my purse back… thank you." He took his purse back, and frowned down at it; the belt had been severed neatly in half, now Rush looked. Man, that was unlucky; most bag-snatchers just grabbed, they didn't cut your belt off you. But then, the guy did look wealthy, and around here, that was like a red flag to a bull.

Rush felt the kid squirm under his boot. "Uh, you want me to help you haul him to the guards?"

The man glanced down, and then shook his head. "Tempting, but it would be very awkward to explain my presence here."

"Huh?"

"Let him go," the man said, and this time he smiled, like Rush had said something cute. Oh. This guy was really something when he smiled. Rush lifted his foot, letting the kid wriggle free; he was up on his feet and halfway down the street before Rush could even blink.

"What _is_ a guy like you doing around here, anyways?" asked Khrynia, and Rush could tell without even looking that she'd be leaning forward, as invitingly as she could.

"I'm… lost, actually," the guy said, looking embarrassed. He opened his purse -- and, Rush noticed, it wasn't actually all that full -- and pulled out some of the coins inside. "But here, I owe you both a reward for your kind assistance. If you can point me towards Hendler, I'll double it."

Rush tried not to gape; there was close on two hundred gil in the man's hand already. "You want me to walk you there? For… four hundred, I'll escort you all the way to The Heavenly Terrace."

The man's smile broadened. "You're hired."

"Awesome." Rush glanced over at Khrynia, who was nearly _pouting_ , and flashed a smile at the guy. "Just a second?"

He pulled Khrynia just far enough away that the guy wouldn't hear the conversation too easily.

"You take the money for now, okay?"

"Sure. Man, how come you score the pretty guy, huh?"

"He's not hiring me for that." Rush glanced over his shoulder. "More's the pity. But six hundred gil? That's next week's rent right there, I can't turn that down."

Khrynia narrowed her eyes at him, and then dimpled. "Flirt enough on the way and he might hire you for _that_ too. Remember not to let him haggle, okay?"

"Sure."

Rush looked over at the guy again. Tall, slim, handsome, and with money too. But… not a customer, not yet. Rush squared his shoulders. Hendler was a good twenty minute's stroll away, and Rush wasn't so bad at sweet-talking that he couldn't at least try. After all, he'd always need more money. Might as well get it from someone cute if he could.

\--

David, to his surprise, was rather enjoying himself.

Getting lost in a city with such a prominent landmark was rather humiliating, of course -- in his defense, it was very hard to tell which _side_ of Elysion you were facing at any time -- and having his belt sliced through by an opportunistic thief wasn't his idea of a good evening either. But the young man whose reflexes had caught the thief had turned out to be quite charming.

David wasn't an innocent, by any means. Nor was he so sheltered that he hadn't known what the young men and women of Hiraan Street had been offering with their lingering looks and tightly-cut clothing. And there was nothing wrong with that. It wasn't his usual habit to hire streetwalkers, that was all. If David wanted paid company, arrangements were usually made on his behalf; discreet, talented bedpartners who catered for men and women of high status. 

But Rush -- it had taken some insistence to get a name from him, and he'd insisted on David's in return -- was quite charming, in his own way.

"So, where are you staying?"

Perhaps it would be indiscreet to say the embassy. "On Hendler, north side."

"Hey, I know that area; near the mercenary guild, right?"

David smiled; the Union of the Golden Chalice was only a few buildings away from Athlum's Embassy. "That's correct."

"I didn't know there were inns around there, gosh. Must be fancy. It's all trade and commerce stuff around there. That what you do?"

Rush was making smart guesses, if misguided, smarter than David might have expected from his appearance and demeanour. There was a good brain inside that head.

It was the clothing, David thought. The outfit was… tawdry, but David supposed that only certain types of clothing were considered appropriate for streetwalking. The shirt did at least highlight the shape of Rush's arms and torso, taut and toned like a fighter's. David had really only dared drop his gaze for a second, because those pants made an obscene display of Rush's pelvis. And the hairstyle was rather aging, too harsh for Rush's soft features. David felt a distinct urge to ruffle that hair up, and it was unsettling to realise that if he just offered Rush a little money then he'd let David do exactly that.

"Sometimes, yes. Trade, at least."

"Heh." Rush tucked his hands into his back pockets, an artless move that made David struggle to keep his eyes above Rush's waist. "Well, I'm in 'trade' too, I guess."

"...yes, I'd noticed," David admitted, and smiled, to soften the comment, although Rush didn't seem offended. "Is it… dangerous, out on the streets like that?"

Rush shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. "A bit? I mean, I can fight, it's not too bad for me. Worse for girls, I reckon, but Khrynia's got me to look out for her at least."

"Are you two…?"

"No, god no. I'm, uh. I mean, if a girl pays for it, whatever, I'm obliging, but I don't really--"

"I see." David smiled again, deliberately; often men seemed reluctant to admit a preference for other men, and perhaps Rush was dissembling for David's benefit, but if so, it was well-feigned. "What about other risks?"

"Oh, I'm careful, I got a healer owes me favours, checks me out every month or so, and I use protection and all. I'm probably safer than most hookup options, honestly? Part of the job, I figure."

"Very responsible." David meant it, too. "How much do you make?"

Rush had altogether too honest a face for his profession, David thought, as Rush said, "Oh, about a hundred an hour." David wondered how much of an inflation that was. It didn't seem that unreasonable to him, though clearly Rush thought it was.

"That much?"

"I'm good," Rush said, almost defensively. "I'm worth twice that."

David nodded. "So, by walking me here, you're losing out on that much?"

"No, you're paying me, remember?" Rush said, his brows drawn into a frown for a moment before he chuckled. "Unless you wanna pay me for my lost earnings on top of that?"

"Perhaps I should."

"Ha, nah, it's fine, this is easier than a lot of jobs," Rush said, looking uncomfortable. "Hendler's the next corner, actually. You should be fine from here."

David stopped, confused. "I thought you were going to escort me all the way to my door?"

"Yeah, but--" Rush gestured down at himself. "C'mon, I figure you don't wanna be seen with someone like me, not somewhere like this."

"Ah." Rush was, perhaps, correct; the staff at the embassy would certainly notice if David brought a streetwalker to their door. Though David didn't really mind if they did; he had nothing much to hide on that front, no wife or betrothed to remain faithful for. It was only his choice of bedpartner that would raise comment, and those people who would find it offensive _needed_ a little shaking up.

"So, uh. I feel kind of bad for asking, but, uh, about that payment?"

David's hand went to his purse, now tucked into his shirt. "Four hundred, right?"

"Right."

"...and how much extra for you to spend some time with me, in my rooms?"

Rush's face went through a strange twist of something -- surprise, perhaps -- before he masked it under a confident smirk. "Ah, now, a hundred an hour, like I said. You might have to sneak me in and out, though."

"I think maybe we'll just have to be brazen." David said. "You can wear my jacket over your clothes, if that makes you feel more comfortable."

Rush eyed David's rather eye-catching jacket with obvious reluctance, and shook his head. "It's okay." He began to unroll his sleeves, so they covered more of those muscles, and then buttoned up his shirt a little. It didn't really diminish the tawdry look, but it did soften it a little. "Will I do?"

"I think you'll do just fine."

The evening shift of embassy staff did, in fact, all turn their heads to watch as David led Rush across the entrance hall and up the grand staircase. David ignored them, distracted by how obviously awed Rush was at the decor.

"Shit, Dave, this is one hell of a place--"

David smiled, and pulled him along. "Come on, don't dawdle. You there--" he smiled politely at the chief of night staff, who was at least professional enough to have swallowed his surprise down.

"--Robert, milord--"

" _Milord,_ " David heard Rush echo quietly behind him, clearly surprised by the title.

"Mister Robert, any messages for me?"

"Several, milord." Robert handed over a small stack of messages, and then peered at Rush over David's shoulder with undisguised curiosity. "Anything else you need from us, sir?"

"Please send up some Royotian wine, if we have any in stores? And--" David glanced back at Rush, who was still looking around him in mild amazement. He wondered how well Rush ate, generally, and how insulted he'd be if David made too much of a deal of providing him a meal. "And perhaps some fruit? Whatever we have."

"Certainly, sir."

David nodded an acknowledgement and took hold of Rush's arm. "Come, then."

There was an old-fashioned elevator that led directly up to David's quarters on the top floor; the attendant saluted as they entered and entirely failed to keep his eyes from drifting appreciatively down to Rush's legs. 

"Good evening, milord," he said, still admiring Rush's thighs.

"Yes. My apartment, please."

"Of course." The attendant's eyes snapped back up, and he smirked, clearly not bothered by being caught gawping. David smiled back, oddly amused; if nothing else, his whims were having quite the effect on his staff.

Rush seemed oblivious to the attention, too distracted by the gilt and velvet that decorated the interior of the elevator. The attendant folded open the doors when they arrived, and bowed politely. David gestured politely ahead of himself, to Rush.

"After you."

Rush gave him a wide-eyed, almost nervous look, and then stepped out into the apartment and… stopped, almost immediately. David, behind him, had to push, and Rush stumbled forward another step before steadying himself.

Behind them, the elevator door squeaked as the attendant discreetly closed it.

"Dave, this place… is, well, totally mint."

David spared Rush a smile, before heading over to his desk. The small stack of messages in his hand were, alas, not the only things he had to attend to; there was a small pile of letters that must have been delivered to his rooms while he was out. Combined with the trade agreements he'd wanted to review… damn. Perhaps choosing to hire a bedpartner had been a foolish notion; he didn't really have the time to waste on something as frivolous as pleasure right now.

He glanced over at Rush, who was standing at the doors that led outside, his eyes round with delight.

"Can… do you mind if I go out onto the balcony, to look? Just for a second?" Rush asked, wonder evident in his voice.

"Not at all."

Rush opened the glazed door carefully, as if scared he might break it, and then stepped out onto the balcony as if astonished that one might be able to see the city from above like this, lit up by lanterns so that the sea of stars above Elysion seemed mirrored in the streets below. David realised, suddenly, that perhaps Rush rarely saw the city like this; the upper districts were the haunts of nobles, not those who lived in the slums, and the district gates often closed at night.

He stared at his piles of paperwork, more reluctant than he could ever remember to pursue work that would lead to a better chance at independence. This was all in aid of his country's future. That was _important_.

But... perhaps he didn't have to chase Rush away entirely, not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Rush was trying hard not to seem like he was that impressed -- he didn't want Dave to think he hadn't spent any time in fancy hotels, really -- but this place was fancier than any hotel Rush'd ever seen, and the staff had called Dave _milord_ , and there'd been no hotel sign out front that Rush could see. Did Dave own the building or something?

He stared down at the city. And hell, this view. Dave had acted like he'd barely noticed it, but how could you get used to that, seeing the whole of the lower terraces laid out before you like a map?

Rush glanced back inside, his gaze drifting along the line of tall windows, and it took a moment for him to spot Dave sitting at a desk inside. It looked like he was dealing with those messages he'd gotten downstairs. Whatever else Dave might be, he wasn't apparently in any hurry to take advantage of the man he was paying good money for. Rush looked down at himself, and unbuttoned his shirt again before heading back into the warmth.

"So," he said, as smoothly as he could, pulling the door closed behind him. "Now you have me here, what would you like me to do?"

Dave stared at him, and dropped the letter back on the desk before leaning back in his chair. "I have absolutely no idea. I didn't really plan this."

"You always plan things?"

"Usually. Always."

"Yeah? I… yeah, I'm not so much with the plans. I make 'em, and then they never really work out."

"Ah." Dave looked thoughtful. "Well. Would it be alright if we just… talked, for now?"

"Talk? If you like. But… clock's ticking, you know."

"Yes. About that--"

A buzzing sound came from the elevator door, making Rush jump in surprise. The door creaked open, and another guy in uniform emerged, carrying a tray with a bottle, some glasses and a large covered silver dish.

"Thank you," said Dave, standing up. "Over here is fine, thank you."

"Milord."

The uniformed man bowed politely, set his tray down as directed, and then, after a second, turned and bowed to _Rush_ too, who nodded uncertainly back. Man, this lifestyle of Dave's was weird. Did everyone always bow and scrape to him like this?

Dave sat down again as the man departed in the elevator, and waved a hand towards the tray. "Help yourself, I just need to finish this quickly."

Fair enough. Rush sat down on the sofa next to the small table that the tray was on, and peered at the bottle. Royotian wine was expensive, but that was about all Rush knew of it; it wasn't really within his price range, and he wasn't a big drinker at the best of times anyway. He lifted the cover on the bowl instead. Plump, juicy looking apples fought for space with the ripest-looking gillfruit Rush had seen in a long time, with no bruising or damage visible on either. He picked up an apple and sniffed it, cautiously -- oh, _man_ , it smelled like actual heaven. Damn. If he'd known Dave was going to feed him like this, he'd might have followed him up here for nothing.

He bit into the apple, and nearly groaned at the taste, raising a hand to make sure he didn't drip any of the juice on himself.

"Good?"

Rush looked up, to see Dave smiling down at him, looking oddly pleased with himself. "Really good. You gotta try these, seriously."

"Perhaps later." Dave sat down opposite him, on the floor, and picked up the wine bottle. "I will, however, have a glass of this. Would you like some?"

Rush shrugged. "If you insist."

Dave poured a half-glass out for himself and a small amount into the other glass, seeming unconcerned when Rush took one sniff and then set it down untouched.

"Dave?"

"Yes?"

"This seduction thing's really cute, but, uh. You don't need to. I'm a sure thing, I promise."

Dave smiled into his glass. "That's good to know. Would you like me to pay you now?"

Oh, thank god, Dave wasn't one of those guys who got awkward about actually forking over the money in advance. "Yeah, please? Always best to get it out of the way."

Dave set his glass down, and pulled out his pouch again. "Here," he said, weighing it in one hand. "I still owe you four hundred for your escort earlier, and another hundred for an hour of your company, I believe."

"Yep." Rush extended his hand, smiling.

Dave reached out, and took Rush's hand, and turned it palm up. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five." He laid the coins in Rush's palm gently, and when Rush would have closed his hand around the coins, held it where it was. "Six. Seven."

"Uh." Rush coughed. "So I'm really good, but you don't _know_ that yet. You're supposed to wait until we're done to tip me, haha."

"Eight. Nine. Ten." Dave closed Rush's hand around the coins, gently, ignoring his joke. "Would that be sufficient for you to stay here tonight?"

"Stay?" Rush felt the weight of the coins in his hand, and swallowed, trying to keep calm. Six hundred gil; was Dave expecting him to perform that impressively? How many repeat performances would be required?

"That way you'll stop watching the clock," Dave said, his tone light, picking up the glass again. "I dislike feeling scheduled, and I don't really want to spend the night alone."

Maybe Dave was being truthful, and he really didn't like just getting straight to the action. Maybe he was just taking pity on Rush for some reason, or this was a way of apologising for having ignored him in favour of work at first… or maybe, Rush suddenly thought, it was like the thing Khrynia had mentioned a couple of guys asking for, where they just paid her to act like a devoted girlfriend for an hour or two. To cuddle up, and maybe rub their shoulders or their feet, to listen to their complaints about work and rest their head on her lap. Maybe that's the sort of thing Dave was asking for here; a boyfriend for the night, one he didn't have to court or deal with afterwards. It kind of made sense. He seemed like a busy guy, but that could be lonely. Rush squared his shoulders. 

"For six hundred? I'm here until morning. Except, ah, for one thing." Rush wrinkled his nose, a little embarrassed to have to add the caveat. "No kissing. On the mouth, I mean, I'll kiss anywhere else you want."

Dave didn't object, quite, he just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, as if expecting an explanation.

"I know that sounds daft, but I gotta have some piece of me that's not for sale, you know?"

"Very well." Dave stood up, with the glass in hand. "I understand."

"Awesome. Otherwise, I'm all yours."

Dave smiled, and took a sip from his glass. "Please, make yourself at home; there are books and visistones in the library, and if you would like more food then I'm sure the staff will oblige."

"...where are you going?"

"Back, alas, to work." Dave pulled an apologetic face. "Sorry. It's important. But I'll… I'll finish as soon as I can."

Rush watched, kinda blindsided, as Dave sat back down at his desk. This was… the most ridiculous evening he'd ever had, paid a small fortune to walk a handsome guy home, and now being paid to just sit around and do nothing. Hell, the way Dave was acting, maybe he wasn't planning on touching Rush at all.

Rush tucked the coins into one of his boot pockets, thoughtfully, and then stretched. If he was being paid to sit in idle luxury, he might as well go look at these books Dave had mentioned.

\--

David was vaguely conscious of the sound of visistones playing in the library; he dragged his attention away from the agreements for long enough to register that Rush was watching some sort of tactical training exercise. Strange choice. He frowned down at the document; something definitely seemed amiss, and he flicked back a couple of pages… aha, he'd thought so, the boundaries described were different in one place to their description elsewhere, and he scribbled a quick query in the margin. He didn't think it was a malicious mistake; everything else in the agreement seemed quite straightforward.

That merely left a few messages to look through.

Rush, in the library, let out a peal of laughter, and David's curiosity was piqued. He picked up the last small stack of messages, and padded through to peer into the library. Rush was sprawled on the floor, a cushion under his head, watching what David now recognised as an old visistone on what tactical decisions _not_ to make. He looked content and comfortable, and David felt a sudden surge of delight; it _was_ nice to have someone else around.

A few messages, and he could review them as well in here as at his desk.

Rush sat up as he actually entered the room, and David made a 'please, don't get up' gesture with his free hand, holding up the sheaf of paper apologetically.

"You always work this hard?" asked Rush, looking sympathetic.

"This week more than usual," admitted David, taking a seat on one of the armchairs near Rush. "I apologise if you feel neglected; I hadn't quite realised how much I had to do tonight."

Rush shrugged. "As long as you don't feel ripped off."

David smiled. Rush really was too honest for his profession. "It's fine. I like having a guest, actually. Makes it feel less echoing in here." 

"About that… where _is_ this? The building, I mean? It's not a hotel."

"It's an embassy."

"So that makes you… an ambassador. _The_ ambassador for somewhere, I guess?"

"In a… manner of speaking, yes." David thought, quickly; it wasn't that Rush seemed untrustworthy, but David couldn't see much advantage in telling Rush his precise rank if he didn't have to. "I'm in Elysion to deal with some political issues; this isn't my permanent residence."

"Ah." Rush fidgeted a little. "Well. It's a nice place, all the same."

"I'm glad you like it." David gestured at the visistone. "Please, keep watching. I should be done soon."

The messages didn't actually take long to work through; even the tortured subclauses of his head of finance couldn't last forever. Rush was absorbed in the comedic training exercise again when David set the papers aside, and he permitted himself another moment to admire Rush's shape; the long, lean muscles of his thighs, the curve of his bicep, the fullness of his lips. David smiled, suddenly willing to ignore his tiredness; here was a beautiful and rather charming man, one with no political motivations or personal expectations beyond this night. And if David merely asked, this man would gladly fall into bed with him. He held onto the moment, letting the anticipation wash over him and stir him.

Rush seemed to sense David's inspection after a while, and glanced over at him thoughtfully.

David held his gaze, wondering if he should speak. What did one say to someone who was literally at one's command, like this?

Rush turned off the visistone, and sat up, turning to face David. He looked down at himself for a moment, and then began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly. David felt an appreciative smile spread across his face. Rush was, it seemed, good at picking up on unstated requests.

Rush set his shirt to one side, and then knelt, unbuttoning the top button on his sinfully tight pants, and then paused.

"Well?" asked David, quietly. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; his hands resting awkwardly on the arms of the chair. He itched to try and mess up Rush's hair a little, but it looked like it was lacquered in place and perhaps Rush might object.

Rush closed the space between them, still on his knees, and then stopped, only an inch away, and frowned down at David's groin for a moment before reaching to unbuckle David's belt, and then his frown lifted as he seemed to work out how the fastenings for David's trousers worked. He lifted one hand and pushed David in the chest, just forcefully enough for David to understand the request: _lean back_.

Rush hadn't been idly bragging, it turned out; he was _very_ good.

\--

Rush woke up, abruptly. This wasn't his narrow little bed, _shit_ , he'd sworn he wasn't going to fall asleep on the job ever again, not after the last time. And he… he blinked, realising how fancy a ceiling he was looking up at, and then turned his head to see Elysion bright and vivid against the night sky, far closer than he'd ever seen from any bedroom before.

Oh.

He relaxed a little, as memory came flooding back. He'd had a good time getting Dave off; it was totally satisfying to watch someone that gorgeous come undone at his touch. And then Dave had led him in here, after Rush had sucked him off in the library, and had insisted on giving as good as he'd gotten. 

Guys had done that before, sometimes. But usually they made it seem like some huge favour they were doing him, not something _they'd_ suggested or might want to do. And then Rush had to lay on the gratitude with a trowel, even when the guy didn't manage to get Rush off.

But Dave had been pretty spectacular. Rush had learned to be good at all the things that made guys want to hire him again, swallowing and smiling and praising the guy he was going down on. Dave, on the other hand, well, he wasn't being paid to be as good as he was, or as enthusiastic. He'd been clear that getting Rush off was really good for him, was something he really wanted to do and liked doing. Rush hadn't had to fake his enjoyment even a little bit.

The guy was ruining him for every other customer, honestly.

But where was he?

Rush found some kind of dressing gown laid out on the dresser, and shrugged it on.

He found Dave seated at his desk again, wearing a thin pair of cotton trousers and not much else, frowning over a pile of papers.

"Hey," he said, confused. It was the middle of the night, and hadn't Dave said he was done with work already?

Dave looked up, a startled expression on his face. "Oh."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"...alas, no." Dave frowned down at the papers again. "It's a critical time, and I need to make sure I'm prepared, so I'm just looking over the paperwork from yesterday again."

Rush pursed his lips. This guy was a workaholic. He needed to learn how to stop working for a while. And hell, Rush kind of figured he was entitled to feel a bit insulted. There he'd been, all naked in Dave's bed, and Dave had decided he'd rather get up and go look at documents that he'd _admitted_ he'd already looked over. "Well, I'm awake too now. How about you let me earn the money you're paying me, hm?"

Dave paused, halfway through turning a page. "Ah--"

"C'mon, professional pride at stake here."

Dave blinked up at him owlishly for a moment, and then smiled, as if it had taken him a moment to catch on that Rush was joking. "Well, if you put it like that…"

Dave stood up, and Rush towed him towards the bedroom determinedly. "I do. You need to take proper advantage of the services I'm offering, Mr Ambassador."

Dave laughed, and Rush nearly stopped in his tracks, startled. Dave had a really lovely laugh, slightly rough as if he didn't often laugh properly. "Very well, then. What service would you recommend?"

Rush pushed Dave down, gently, so he sat on the end of the bed, and then he reached down. His boots were stuffed under the end of the bed, handily enough, and he fumbled in the pockets sewn into the left one for a moment before finding the two items he was looking for. "Anything you might want," he said, grinning, and he set the items down next to Dave. "Sex is usually very popular, I find."

"Of course." Dave glanced down at the condom and the little bottle of oil, before smiling gently at Rush. "That sounds like an excellent notion."

Rush unbelted the gown and let it slide to the floor, and then he climbed onto the bed and stretched out, face down, next to Dave. He grinned over his shoulder at Dave, who was watching him with a faintly quizzical expression on his face. "I'm all yours."

After a moment's hesitation, Dave crawled up the bed next to him, condom and oil in hand, and then just sat there, his gaze drifting up and down Rush's spine.

Rush kept the smile wide and inviting; if Dave wanted to take his time and admire the goods first, no harm in that.

"It's a fine view," said Dave, after a moment. "But would you mind turning over?"

Oh. Dave was that type, huh; liked seeing the face of the guy he was doing. That was… kinda sweet, though it'd mean that Rush'd have a harder time faking enjoyment if it was necessary. But for the money Dave was paying, hell, Rush'd manage. He rolled over, smiling happily as if pleased by the suggestion, and hoped it would make up for the half-mast he was currently flying at.

He liked being penetrated, that was the dumb thing -- if he hadn't, he'd never have taken on guy customers, since it was what most of them wanted from him. It was just… some guys got a bit rough, and it had made it harder to always be entirely up for the idea. He'd firm up properly once they got into it, assuming Dave wasn't one of those guys.

"Better," said Dave, and then he dropped the condom on Rush's stomach. "You'll need this, though, not I."

"Huh?" Rush struggled up a little, so he was resting on his elbows. "Wait. You want me to--"

Dave was inspecting the bottle of oil, holding it up to the light as if checking the label. "Is that alright?"

"Well--" Rush caught himself before he actually argued; the customer was always right, and hell, this customer was fricking gorgeous and wanted to hand Rush the reins. Like some kind of damned fantasy. "You're the boss."

"So you keep saying." Apparently satisfied with the oil, Dave handed Rush the bottle. "Oblige me?"

Oh yeah. This guy was _absolutely_ ruining him for every future customer. But at least Rush was going to have some awesome memories as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying hard to adhere to the plot of Pretty Woman in spirit at least, but I *am* going to move things around and add stuff as I deem necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

David flipped through his morning messages. He'd felt as sated and relaxed as one could possibly hope for when he'd returned to his work, but the news he was receiving was undoing all the fine work Rush had done. His sources were reporting some worrying meetings that had apparently taken place the previous night between Qubine and other members of the Congress. It was appearing likely that the Duke of Celapaleis was becoming aware of David's machinations.

 _Duke Qubine has invited you to dine with him tonight, and I am certain he wishes to discuss Athlum's future with you,_ read the note from Pagus. _It would be very impolite to decline. I would suggest not taking any of the cabinet or your advisors, however. That will allow you to reinforce that this dinner is not a formal negotiation opportunity, should he attempt to steer conversation in that direction._

Hm. He scribbled a quick response -- _Set up the dinner, I'll attend alone_ \-- and rang the bell for a messenger. The elevator buzzed its arrival with admirable swiftness, and the pleasant young man who was attending the lift assured him he would have the message passed along immediately.

A rustle behind him as he returned to review the messages make him look up. Rush was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, in his borrowed nightrobe, looking rather uncertain. His hair was a little mussed from sleep and some of it had fallen forward into his face; it made him look quite young. David spared a moment to wonder how old Rush actually was, and to hope the answer wouldn't make him feel guilty.

"Good morning."

"You look busy. I'll just... get out of your way," Rush said.

"Oh, no need. Are you hungry? There's food," said David, gesturing at the heavily laden table. "I think the staff are expecting me to feed an army in here, so please, do eat something."

Rush blinked, owlishly, and took a seat. "Thanks."

David picked up his messages again. "Sleep well?"

"Too well, probably," said Rush. He took one of the breads, and drew his feet up to his chest on the chair, his body language very defensive. David wasn't really sure what the protocol was in this situation, but clearly he wasn't behaving the way Rush expected him to.

But he'd slept with the man, achieved what he dearly hoped was mutual satisfaction in the act, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't treat even a hired bedpartner with basic courtesy and respect the morning afterwards.

"What about you? Did you sleep?" Rush asked, politely.

"A little," David said, smiling apologetically. "On the couch, earlier. I wanted to double-check the reports again."

"Of course you did."

Rush wrapped an arm around his legs, and stared out of the window thoughtfully as he chewed.

"So. You don't sleep, and you don't really eat," said Rush, after a while, helping himself to one of the small pastries.

David glanced up from his reports, surprised, and Rush gestured at the table of mostly-untouched food.

"Ah."

"If you hadn't hired me, I'd worry you never had fun at all," Rush said, a grin suddenly lighting his features.

"I have my moments," said David, surprised by his own relief at seeing Rush's good humour restored, whatever the reasons. "And I take satisfaction in doing a good job."

"Just as well, considering," said Rush, his expression wry. "But, no, I get it. It's good. I wish I had a job I loved so much I couldn't keep away from it for more than an hour or two."

David bit his tongue on the obvious question that sprang to mind. He turned the question around, gently, until it seemed less offensive. "What job would you like, then?"

"Ah, I dunno. I'm saving up to get a guild membership and some weapons training; I'm decent with my daggers, but nobody'd hire me with just those." Rush clearly saw the look of confusion on David's face, and clarified. "Mercenary guild."

"That's your dream?"

"Not really a dream as such," said Rush, slowly. "But it'll let me travel, and meet people, and if I pick my jobs right I'll be helping people. That's gotta be good, right?"

"Those are admirable things to want, yes." David heard the elevator buzz. "My apologies, I need to--"

Rush waved a hand, lightly. "It's fine, like I said, I'll get out of your hair. Is it okay if I clean up before I go?"

"Certainly."

The messenger had several letters for him; David flicked through them until he found the reply he wanted.

_My Lord, do take some sort of escort, preferably armed, lest Torgal accuse me of sending you unwisely into danger. Perhaps a soldier can be drafted for the duty, or one of the embassy guards. I will inform Duke Qubine of your attendance._

An escort. Non-political. David glanced towards the bathroom, thoughtful. 

The door was ajar, and Rush was humming in the shower. The opaque wall of the shower only came to shoulder height; Rush's eyes were closed against the spray of the water, his hair soaped and plastered down against his skull, and he looked like he was enjoying the shower more than David would have thought feasible for a simple device of running water.

David tapped lightly on the wall next to the shower, after some internal debate. Rush whirled, startled, and David smiled reassuringly at him.

"Geez," said Rush, but he was smiling in return. "Can't a guy wash in peace?"

"I have a… business opportunity for you."

Rush ducked his head under the tap again for a second, and then turned off the spray. "Business?"

"I'm going to be in Elysion until Monday. I'd like to hire you for that duration."

Rush's eyes went very wide. "The whole week?"

"Yes. I want to hire you as an employee, all week, to stay here with me."

"Uh." Rush frowned, and then squinted at David in confusion. "Okay, so. You're rich, handsome, young -- for a one-off, sure, I get hiring someone. But if you want someone around that much, why not just… date someone? A guy like you has to have options."

"I don't want the complications of a romantic involvement right now. I want someone who will leave after a week, with no regrets or resentment." David linked his fingers together and stretched out his arms in front of him. "And I enjoyed our time together. You're worth the money."

"And how much money _would_ that be?" Rush folded his arms on top of the wall between them. "You want me on call day and night, I've gotta charge you."

"Give me a figure."

"Five nights. Days too. Uh. ...Six thousand gil?"

David pursed his lips. "Five times six is only thirty. Three thousand gil, in other words."

"But you want days too."

"Four thousand," said David. If he paid too high a price for this whim -- and he had plans that would involve paying for more than just Rush's time -- then he'd have to dip into Athlum's treasury, instead of funding it from his own pockets, and he would rather not have to wrestle with the ethics of that use of government funds.

"Five thousand," countered Rush.

"Done."

Rush's eyes went wide. "Holy crap, you're serious. Holy crap."

"Is that a yes?"

\--

Dave had gone off to do whatever he did during the day, leaving Rush in this palatial set of rooms with a pile of food and a set of vague instructions on what Dave actually _wanted_ from him for the rest of the week.

Rush stared at the heavy pouch Dave had handed to him.

_"Buy a weapon and some armour today," said Dave, lightly. "I'll need you to play bodyguard for me at a dinner later."_

_"Wait, you're hiring me for guardwork? But--"_

_"I'm hiring you for the nights, too." Dave had been piling up his huge stack of paperwork. "But I won't keep you idle and bored all day, and I do need someone to escort me tonight."_

_"What kind of stuff should I--"_

_"Whatever suits you." Dave had flashed him one of those swift, flickering smiles of his. "Tula Street is where you'll find suitable equipment, I suspect."_

_"Dave?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"I'd probably have stayed for a lot less."_

_Dave had straightened up, his arms full of papers. "And I'd certainly have paid more."_

Rush had better let Khrynia know the situation, so she didn't freak out over him being missing, and he could give her rent money too. Then he could head back this way, drop by Tula Street -- the equipment there'd always been out of his price range before, it was going to be so weird going there with actual money to burn. He guessed it made sense, though; Dave was clearly an important guy, and his guard wouldn't be using cheap pot-metal swords from the slums.

He set that pouch aside, and sprawled back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. This week would net him six thousand gil, in total. Even if he paid off rent for a month, that left a _lot_ of money. He could sign up for a weapons course with accreditation at the end, get himself a guild registration, be set up to really pursue the career he'd told Dave about. And he'd still have enough to set Khrynia off on the travels she'd always talked about.

Man.

Well, first things first.

Khrynia wasn't at their tiny shared place, and Rush couldn't even find his key to get in. He tracked her down to the cafe where he sometimes picked up shifts, and then had to wait around for a while until the boss let her take a break. He was pretty antsy; carrying as much money as he had on him was really weird.

"So you're telling me that a gorgeous guy hired you all night to fool around with him in a fancy apartment?" Khrynia asked, before Rush had managed to even finish his explanation, her eyes wide. "OMG. I officially hate you."

"That's only the start." Rush said. He'd hauled Khrynia out the back into the grubby little yard behind the cafe; he really didn't want everyone overhearing, or seeing as he handed her a pouch stuffed with enough gil for the next two weeks of rent. "He wants me to stay all week, too."

He tried not to sound too smug, and mostly failed. Khrynia, to his surprise, didn't smack him on the arm like he expected, she just inspected his face carefully for a moment before she folded her arms and said, "huh."

"That's all you have to say, huh?"

"Well. He's cute, and rich, and treats you decent. It sounds like a dream. Just… don't go getting attached? He's a customer, not a boyfriend."

"I _know_ that." Rush rolled his eyes. "He doesn't even live here. He just wants someone who won't be clingy when he leaves, I think. And he's getting his money out of me. Actually, he wants me to stand guard duty at some dinner tonight."

"Huh. So he doesn't just want you for your pretty face, huh?" Khrynia smiled, and then she gasped. "Oh! You should totally borrow that orb I bought."

"You don't mind?"

"Nah." Khrynia fumbled in her handbag for a moment, then brought out the orb. "Here."

Rush tucked the precious thing away in his now much-lighter purse, and let Khrynia go back to her shift.

Tula Street was _way_ fancier than Rush remembered. A couple of stalls out on the street had equipment, and he peered thoughtfully at them. He wasn't really sure what weapon to buy, really. Swords, probably -- nice and versatile, and his dagger knowledge might have a little relevancy. He fingered the hilt wrap on a katana, thoughtfully. So many options. Did he want one big sword, or two smaller ones, or combine one with a shield? He really needed to play around with combinations to get a feel for them.

"Hands off the merchandise, punk."

Rush drew his hand back, startled. There were two girls behind the counter, both dressed like… well, a little like Khrynia when she was really determined to get customers, if he was honest. There was a lot of skin. The black-haired one looked friendly enough, but the white-haired one was sneering at him in obvious disgust.

"Yeah, I mean you," she said. "Get yer filthy hands off the goods, asshole. They're not for you."

"I can pay," said Rush, confused by the aggressive response. Didn't they want customers?

The black-haired one, still smiling, shook her head. "Sorry, hun. You look sweet enough and all, but we can't let our goods be bought by any old street trash."

"Yeah, this shit's classy." The white-haired one sniffed. "For real fighters."

"So you're saying that if I tried to buy this sword right now, you wouldn't take my money?"

"Look, honey." The black-haired woman's smile became sweeter, a mockery of pleasantness, and she leant forward in a way that Khrynia would have envied. "You could be the finest warrior in Elysion. But to me you look like you just came from the slums, and like you'll go back there soon enough. If we sell to people like you, more like you will come up here. It's just not desirable. You understand?"

"So, like my sister said," the other woman said, mirroring the pose with a sneer. "Piss off, whoreboy."

Rush's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," they said, in unison, their expressions still set in a smile and a scowl.

Rush looked around them; the owner of the armory stall next to them looked away pointedly as Rush tried to catch his eye, as did the herbalist further down. Rush looked down at himself; sure, this _was_ what he'd wear to pick up customers, but, shit, it covered more skin than both the outfits of these girls put together. The shopkeepers around here were really so snooty they wouldn't even sell him a sword? What the hell was wrong with them?

He turned on his heel, and strode away, stiff-backed. Screw them. There were other shops in Elysion; maybe he'd go up to the temple district and browse there. People closer to temples had a duty not to be assholes to others on the basis of appearance, right?

But… maybe Dave had a nicer shirt he could borrow to go to them in. Yeah. Dave wouldn't mind, he bet. He headed back to the Embassy.

The guard outside had changed, he noticed, but didn't stop him entering. He headed up the staircase and made a beeline for the elevator up to Dave's apartment and pushed the button to call it.

And a man with an amazing moustache stepped into his path, frowning. "Excuse me, sir, where are you going?"

"Up," Rush said, confused.

"No, sir, I mean, where in the Embassy are you expected? Do you have an appointment? I can have one of our people escort you to the appropriate office."

Oh, right. This guy was making sure he wasn't lost. "No, I'm staying here. With Dave."

The man's expression didn't alter from his polite frown of confusion. "Dave?"

"Er." Rush thought, frantically. "... _Lord_ Dave?"

The lift arrived, and the attendant from last night peered out curiously. He smiled at Rush in obvious recognition.

"He knows me," Rush said, to the moustached man, desperately. "He does. He knows, I was here last night, upstairs."

"Yes sir," the attendant confirmed. "He stayed in the ambassador's quarters with Lord David overnight."

The moustached man's expression melted into a smile of sly comprehension. "Oh, you're a friend of the marquis?"

Wait, what. David was a _marquis_? Wasn't that… a noble rank, like, a military ruler or something? Whoa. "Yes?"

"Ah, well now." The man looked him up and down, and raised an eyebrow. "I'm... surprised, and not a little envious, but… surely you were only a _temporary_ friend of his, no?"

"No, um. I'll be here all week." Rush felt the back of his neck heat in sudden embarrassment; geez, did he really look so cheap that everyone in the upper districts could tell what he did for money? "You can ask him when he gets back, if you want. Can I go upstairs now?"

The man raised a hand, and then gestured behind the counter. "Just a second. Step into my office for a moment, will you?"

Rush sagged in defeat. "Fine."

The little room he was let into was less fancy than he'd have thought, considering the little sign saying 'manager' on the door. A couple of worn chairs, a little desk, and a window that looked out on the blank wall of the building next door.

"Lord David is a very important man," the manager said, gesturing for Rush to sit down. "You must understand that all the staff here are very protective of him, and his privacy."

"Sure," Rush said, squirming. "I'm not going to go telling everyone what he's hired me for, if that's what you mean."

"I would hope not." The man narrowed his eyes. "In fact, as far as everyone outside this embassy is concerned, you're here as nothing more than, I don't know…"

"His bodyguard," Rush muttered. "That's what he's telling people."

"His bodyguard." The man raised a dubious eyebrow. "Well, perhaps we can find you something that makes you look more the part than your current clothing does."

"I _tried_ ," said Rush, feeling a renewed sense of irritation at the girls in Tula Street. "I had _money_ , and those bitches still wouldn't sell to me."

The man blinked, startled. "I'm sorry?"

"I went to Tula Street. Dave wanted me to buy armour, weapons, whatever so I can actually be a bodyguard for him. But apparently they don't sell to _street trash_ like me."

"I see." The man's moustache twitched, and he smiled with real warmth. "Well, darling, luckily, I think I can help you there."

\--

Rush stared up at the sign above the shop, his heart sinking. This was an extremely fancy-looking shop, aimed at mercenaries who'd already climbed up the guild rankings. He wouldn't have dreamed of trying this place at the best of times. The armour in the window didn't even have prices on it.

He braced himself, and entered.

"Holy--"

This place was like some kind of weaponry wet dream made real; every wall was decorated with beautiful instruments of attack and defense. He turned, gawping. There were shields hanging above, glittering in shades of bronze, crimson and silver. They were emblazoned in dozens of different designs, and he wondered how you decided which to use.

"What do you want, kid?"

There was a woman behind the counter at the back, all dressed in black and red and purple, with an oversized bonnet topping it all. Rush took out the sealed letter that the embassy manager had handed him, and held it up hopefully.

"A message?" The woman came out from behind the counter and strode towards him purposefully; Rush's attention was immediately arrested by the incredible purple boots she was wearing. She snatched the letter out of his hand, tore it open, and read it. Then she looked at Rush, then back at the letter, and then she grinned. It wasn't a very nice grin, somehow.

"Alright then, boy," she said, tucking the letter into her sleeve. "I'm Nora. Izard says you need dressing and equipping."

"Yes."

"What weapons can you handle?"

"I… don't really know? I'm going to be a bodyguard."

"Those come in a bunch of flavours," Nora said, with a snort. "But I get your drift. Let's start you with something light, then, in case you're standing around for hours."

Rush bent down, and pulled out his daggers, placing them on the table. "I use these, at the moment."

"Not bad, for what they are," Nora said, leaning down to inspect, though she didn't actually touch them. "You keep a good edge on them. Want a sword or two, then?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that." Rush turned, looking around the store thoughtfully. Light scattered from a hundred deadly points and edges. "But I can try anything, right?"

"Within reason. And not the stupid gold-plated crap I keep for noble scions with more style than sense. You have a budget, right?" 

Rush pulled out the purse Dave had given him, and handed it over. Nora weighed it, thoughtfully, in her hand, and nodded to herself. "Alright. If you lay hands on anything you can't afford, I'll tell you not to bother before you break your heart over it. And I'm cutting you a discount, anyway, for what it's worth. Anything to put one in the eye of those two out there."

"...I need armour too."

"Weapon first, boy." Nora seemed to be finding him amusing, at least. She reached up, and unhooked a fierce-looking blade-topped pole, hooked at the end and with two sharp barbs near the base of the blade. She held it out in front of her, her hands set shoulder's-width apart on the pole. "Heft that for a moment."

She tossed it to him, and he managed to catch it before it tumbled to the floor. He approximated her previous grip on it, then frowned. It felt unbalanced. He moved his hands further apart, for more stability, and twisted the pole around and then sliced the blade upwards in a vague guess of what an attack with it might be.

"Good instincts," Nora said. "Pikes and suchlike are common for guards. You can rest one end on the floor to take the weight, useful for standing around. And if you need to hurt without poking holes in someone, you can use the blunt end. In battle, you're going to both slice _and_ stab. The length gives you reach, and you can block with the staff."

Rush swished the pole around a bit, trying to get a feel for the range of motion. "Feels a bit clumsy to me."

"Mm. You have any arts?"

"Not yet." Rush shifted his grip so he could hold his weapon one-handed, and dug in his pouch to let the glow of the amber orb shine out for a moment. "But I can learn."

"Hexes, huh. That it?" Nora reached out, and tugged the pole from him before he could answer with more than a nod. "I don't think it's worth trying you on pure rods and wands, then. Other end of the scale is clubs and hammers, and I don't think that'll work either. Let's try… an axe, hm? If you ask nicely I might even let you go hack up a pell or two out back."

Rush glanced at the vast, metre-wide axe on the wall behind the counter, and grinned in anticipation.

\--

Rush drifted back into the embassy, bags and case slung over his shoulder, beaming widely. The manager -- _Izard_ , Rush remembered -- intercepted him at the foot of the grand staircase, quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the small crowd of people at the desk upstairs.

"I got a sword," Rush said, grinning. "And this set of armour; shit, it's really cool, too, and--"

"Yes, yes. And why aren't you wearing it right now?"

"Oh." Rush looked down at himself, then up at the guests mingling above. "Er. I guess that would have been smart, huh."

Izard planted his hands on his hips, and sighed long-sufferingly. "Do you know _how_ to put all your armour on, sweetie?"

"Er." Rush thought about it. There were a lot of buckles and straps involved. "Not entirely."

Izard covered one hand with his face, and then waved his other hand weakly in the air. "Go. Quickly now, just go and don't look shifty about it. I will send someone up to help you. Just… go."

"You're the _best_ embassy manager ever."

"Yes dear, I know. Just make sure Lord David knows too, alright?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I toned down Khrynia. That is because her style of canon dialogue is really hard to sustain without wanting to cry.
> 
> (Soon: more weaponry porn!)


	4. Chapter 4

David spent most of the day in a _splendid_ mood. Pagus and Torgal both found it necessary to remark on his unassailable good cheer, in fact. He smiled pleasantly through a number of tedious but necessary meetings with diplomats and mediators as a result. The balance of opinion seemed to lie in Athlum's favour; it had proven itself in battle and trade sufficiently that a petition for independence would at least be considered and not summarily dismissed.

A great portion of his mood was attributable to his exertions with Rush the previous evening, certainly. A fair-sized chunk of the remaining was the result of happy circumstance; he'd reviewed his finances and two investments he had made some time before had resulted in handsome pay-offs that could be collected here in Elysion. David wasn't absurdly wealthy now, but he could certainly forgo his traditional stipend from the treasury for a while.

The impending dinner with Qubine did, however, throw a shadow over the day.

David had sent a messenger back to the embassy to alert Rush to the time of his arrival. The closer it came to the appointed meeting time, the more he'd began fretting over his whimsy in asking Rush to accompany him. It seemed unlikely that David would actually need an armed guard for more than display -- David was more seasoned and skilled a fighter than most of his own army were -- but Rush's skills outside the bedroom were utterly unproven. Ah well. It was too late to arrange an alternative without causing inconvenience and offense all around. He just hoped Rush would look the part.

Still, if the memory of last night had been sufficient to keep David cheerful all day, the actual presence of Rush might be enough to tide him through this dinner with his manners intact, no matter the provocations Qubine might offer him.

He strode into the embassy, head high, smiling at the staff as he ascended the staircase.

His head of staff approached him immediately, bowing his head politely but rather _definitely_ determined to intercept David before he returned to his quarters. David wondered what was wrong.

"Milord Marquis," the man said, a rather mischievous light in his eyes, "your assigned guard for this evening awaits you in the garden room. Do you intend to change garments before dinner?"

David glanced down at his formal jacket of office, designed to mimic Celepaleis's flag. Not wearing it would be rather injudicious of him, considering. "I do not."

"Very well. Should we arrange for a carriage to convey you to your destination?"

"The Celepaleian embassy is merely half a street away," David said, torn between amusement and confusion. "My guard and I can stroll that distance without incident, I suspect."

The head of staff bowed his head again, and extended his arm in a gesture towards the rear of the embassy. David let himself be shepherded towards the garden room, his curiosity piqued.

"An intriguing man, your new guard," said the head of staff, with a smile.

David frowned, unable to determine whether the description was positive or negative. "Intriguing?"

"Yes, milord." The man opened the door to the garden room, with a polite half-bow. "Enjoy your evening, sir."

This room had long been a favourite of David's. The long windows on both sides were covered with elaborately carved fretwork panels, and the doors opposite the entrance had been pulled back to reveal a wide covered walkway that overlooked the courtyard garden. Ferns and dark green mosses had been cultivated around an artificial waterfall that cascaded from an upper level; the garden felt cool and lush and intimate, and the leafy foliage above shielded visitors from the harsh sun and the noise of the city. It felt like a sanctuary after the dusty summer busyness of Hendler.

A figure was standing on the walkway, their attention on the pool at the base of the waterfall.

David tilted his head, assessing as much as he could from this single rear angle. The figure was dressed in minimal light-blue combat gear, designed for ease of movement and practicality rather than flashiness. The upper part seemed padded, presumably in lieu of actual armour. The figure wore a light helm, laced and tight-fitting at the back of the head. A scabbard at their side had a hint of a curve to it. The only concession to flamboyance was a coloured sash at the waist, in shades of red and gold and teal.

"Well," David said, approvingly, as he approached. "Let me look at you."

The figure visibly startled, and turned quickly. The helm had a nose-guard, but Rush's smiling face could still be seen beneath it. "Not bad, huh."

David laughed, noticing with delight that the sash was embroidered with a design; the Valeria Heart was clearly visible when Rush was facing him. "Not at all."

Rush struck a ridiculous pose, puffing his chest out, but his expression was a little uncertain. "You don't mind I didn't get more… armour-y gear, do you?"

"Not at all, this is far more suitable than full plate would be." David looked Rush up and down again, and then lifted a hand to tug on the laces at the back of Rush's head. "Actually, I'm going to exercise employer privilege and request you forgo the helm. It's a little much for tonight, though you can certainly keep it for actual combat purposes."

Rush reached up and yanked the helm off in one move, though David had barely slackened the laces. "Oh, cool. It's a bit… claustrophobic with it on, anyway."

David idly brushed Rush's bangs forward, earning him a slightly confused look -- but he'd been right, it suited Rush far better -- and then let his hand fall to Rush's waist. He plucked at the sash. "And where _did_ you obtain this, hm?"

"Izard -- the manager guy -- he thought it'd make me look more Athlumian."

There was a wealth of information to unpack in that sentence, thought David, but perhaps he could address that later when he had leisure. "Well. You certainly look the part, I agree. Did you find time to practise with that sword?"

"A little, yeah." Rush glanced down at the scabbard. "I'm not saying I'll win prizes for fencing, but I can stick the sharp end in anyone who tries to hurt you, definitely."

"That's all I ask." David glanced up at the sky; he liked it here, but the leaves above certainly made it hard to judge the time. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Whenever you want. Um. My lord."

The hairs on the back of David's neck raised slightly at that; after being so intimate the night before, a formal title felt distinctly unsettling. "Ah, that's not necess--"

"Upstairs, nah, I know. But when we're in front of other people? It _totally_ is."

David's expression must have looked mulish, because Rush laughed and raised a gentle hand to touch his cheek, as if trying to soothe him.

"You look so annoyed, ha. But it's still true. So what dinner am I guarding you at, exactly? You didn't say."

"I'm dining with Duke Qubine of Celapaleis at his embassy. It's informal, but the situation is a little delicate. I'm afraid you're just going to be standing around watching us eat."

"An actual duke? Whoa." Rush looked unreasonably impressed by that, David thought. "Well then. Lead on, my lord."

\--

Whatever Rush had been expecting a duke to look like, Qubine kinda… wasn't it. When the overdressed child had come in and Dave had bowed and gone all formal and polite, Rush had wondered if this Qubine was the Duke's relative or something. But a few sentences later, and it was clear; this was the Duke himself, a small child with an air of weary cynicism that belonged to a man decades older.

Rush stood near the wall behind Dave's chair at the dining table, trying to look alert and professional.

_"You have a balance to strike," Izard's guard friend had said, sternly, and then had brought his hand up to nudge Rush's chin up to a higher angle. "You must be unobtrusive, but not un-noticeable. One hand resting on the hilt of your sword so you seem ready to use it, but not clutching it nervously."_

_Rush had nodded, more than a little awestruck._

_"And never,_ never _, look like you are eavesdropping."_

Easier said than done, as Dave and this Qubine exchanged what sounded like completely bland greetings across the corner of the table. Rush tried to find somewhere neutral to rest his gaze; directly opposite him stood the grey-muzzled qsiti who had accompanied Qubine into the room, and he didn't want to look like he was staring. And he couldn't be seen to be staring at Dave or at Qubine, either. He settled for the middle of the table, at the glorious display of hothouse flowers.

"--and you know my advisor Jiven," said Qubine, gesturing towards the old qsiti, a motion which dragged Rush's eyes to follow it. "I was expecting you to bring Lady Honeywell, I confess."

"She remains in Athlum, supervising the troops against the Jhanas. They have been even more persistent of late."

"Ah. Please pass my greetings to her, and all your Generals. And who is your companion, then?"

"Rush is one of my personal guards," said Dave, smoothly. "I was given to understand I would only need a minimal entourage, as this is not a formal negotiation."

"Quite right." Qubine's smile was as hard as diamonds, and he leant forward across the table as if confessing a deep and intimate secret to Dave, lowering his voice enough that Rush could only just hear it. "Pray bid him join us at table, that I may do the same for mine."

Dave's eyes widened for a moment, but whatever reaction he was having, he didn't let it show for long. "Ah, Rush, please sit down."

"An excellent notion," said Qubine, at a normal volume. "Chancellor Jiven, you too. There are sufficient seats and the kitchen always prepares more food than is necessary."

Rush couldn't avoid catching the qsiti's eyes; he looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his master's command. They both sat, in Rush's case rather nervously, next to their respective employers, and the attending staff in the room hurried over to lay extra silverware in front of them, along with glasses of a dark yellow wine. Rush glanced down to see a rather bewildering collection of cutlery. Damn. He hoped he didn't show Dave up.

"Now then," said Qubine, leaning back in his chair. "This is indeed an informal meeting, David, and so I am informally mentioning to you that I hear rumours of discord in Athlum."

"Discord?"

"I'm sure you know nothing of this," said Qubine, dismissively. "But I hear rumblings. A movement is afoot to dissolve our union."

"I know of no such movement." Dave smiled back in a way that seemed sort of _glossy_ at Qubine. "We fare well under Celepaleis's guidance, and are grateful for their advice."

"Of course."

Ugh. So this was politics, thought Rush. Both of them lying through their teeth about something, he could swear, but neither of them willing to move an inch.

"I am an excessively busy man, and find myself even more so recently." Qubine steepled his fingers together. "Should my attention be officially drawn to political maneuverings here in Elysion, however -- and I will turn a deaf ear until it is -- I will have to investigate, David," said Qubine, glancing away towards the door. "I would rather not be put in such an embarrassing position. Perhaps you can investigate before the rumours become too noisy."

Rush saw Dave's hand tense, clenching so tightly that his knuckles whitened, on the stem of his glass. That was the only sign he gave that Qubine's words were having any impact. "I will look into it."

"Well. Enough of this. I understand you visited Melphina recently, David. Tell me, how fares she?"

That seemed to be some kind of signal; Dave's hand slowly relaxed on his glass, as he spoke of some city he had visited elsewhere on the continent. Dave spoke mostly of strategic and political aspects, but somehow still managed to convey enough detail for Rush to picture a city spanning the edge of a lake, fed by the waters of a thousand small streams and rivers. It sounded idyllic and peaceful. Rush added the name to his mental itinerary for future travel.

The servants brought out plates; delicate lacy crispbread things protruded from a pile of pale mush with... fish eggs, maybe, scattered on top. Rush stared at it, wondering what it was. Dave was still explaining the layout of Melphina's defenses, and Qubine had his hands folded politely in his lap, so he couldn't watch them to see which fork or spoon he was supposed to use, if any.

Qubine laid a hand lightly on Dave's arm for a moment, halting him in mid-speech, before returning his hand to his own lap. "David, you are my guest, but my stomach growls -- kindly take a bite, before my chef's good work goes to waste."

"Ah," and Dave looked really embarrassed as he picked up a small fork. "Of course; but please, do not wait upon me to eat."

Qubine smiled, past Dave, at Rush on the other side. "Tsk, don't ask people to break good habits. My hesitation is hospitality, and our well-trained companions wait patiently for their masters."

Dave hurriedly spooned a small portion of the pink mush onto a piece of the crispbread, and took a bite with exaggerated speed; Qubine immediately unfolded his hands and began piling the mush onto one of his own breads eagerly. 

"It's excellent," Dave said, sounding surprised. "My commendations to your chef."

Rush took a bite of his own, cautiously; the pulp was cold fish, he realised immediately, and the crispbreads seasoned with rich spices. It was… not much like anything he'd even had before, and three thoughts followed hard upon that one; he liked it a great deal, it was probably quite expensive, and he was going to be spoiled for _so many things_ after this week.

"If you like this, you are going to adore the main course," said Qubine, solemnly, then he smiled. "My chef is very enthusiastic about the availability of ingredients here. So little travels northward fast enough for true freshness."

"I understand -- ah, but of course, you know we opened up that underground route to Balterossa recently? That should make some imports a little more swift."

The conversation passed back into matters that seemed rather more political than Rush could follow, but he happily ate the dishes put in front of him, emulating Dave's manners as best he could without seeming too obvious, and he smiled politely at Qubine whenever the tiny duke's eyes drifted to him.

It was an illuminating set of conversations, even if he didn't quite get the details. From what he could figure out, Dave ruled a territory -- a city, or maybe a bigger chunk than that -- but Qubine ruled over a larger territory that Dave's was part of, so Dave had to defer to him on a ton of things, and occasionally got sent off to run errands for him. Rush didn't know what Qubine had meant about dissolving the union, though. It didn't sound like Dave could do that, to him, or that Dave even expected to.

Despite Dave's obvious discomfort -- he sat as if his shoulders were welded into their tense and faintly hunched position -- Rush rather found that he _liked_ Qubine.

\--

David spent the walk back to the Athlumian embassy sunk deeply in thought. Qubine had _warned_ him. In a matter that laid the blame for David's actions at nameless feet, admittedly, but which made it clear that Qubine knew exactly what David had been about in Elysion lately. 

What was baffling was that Qubine hadn't told him to desist, merely to be more discreet. Qubine couldn't possibly be supporting Athlum's bid for independence. And yet, to be deliberately ignoring the matter... David was baffled by the entire situation.

After that warning, the dinner had been practically convivial, as if they were the most comradely of neighbouring states. Qubine was a good host, when he put his mind to it, and had been as unhesitating in inviting a guard to the table as he would have been to inviting Emma or Torgal. Even just to spare his own chancellor's old bones, it was a gesture that spoke well for Qubine.

He shook his head. This was absurd. Even if Qubine had conducted himself in a fashion akin to sainthood, it would not excuse his constant interference in how Athlum managed itself, nor his unwillingness to allow David to defend his city as he saw fit. Perhaps this generosity was a ruse; perhaps the man was merely trying to confuse David into an admission of guilt.

Rush, who had been silent all the way through dinner aside from murmuring a polite expression of gratitude now and then, heaved out a sigh as they approached the embassy doors.

"Relieved to be back?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Rush, and then he made a face. "I mean, the food was amazing, and some of the stuff you were talking about was really interesting -- you know, you're really good at describing places -- but man, you were so uptight."

"He's my… well, my master, I suppose."

Rush snorted, and pushed the doors open, holding it as if he truly were David's personal guard and not acting the part temporarily. "Maybe. I don't think he likes to think of himself that way, though."

David eyed Rush with sudden curiosity. "Are you genuinely interested in the politics?"

"A bit, yeah." Rush shrugged. "I don't get why you're so down. He seemed really nice, honestly."

"He was indeed an excellent host, yes." David sighed, heavily. "It's a complicated situation. I wish I could discern his motives."

"You mean, you don't trust him."

"I cannot _afford_ to trust him, even if I'd like to."

"Ah." Rush fell silent.

David thought as they ascended in the elevator; he was tempted to take Rush into his confidence, to explain the tangle of confusion that Qubine's words had birthed in his head. But how much would be too much to tell Rush? He couldn't tell him about the push for Athlum's independence, and without that context, would anything else be worth explaining?

They entered the apartment, and Rush immediately made for the bathroom.

"You've got like ten minutes to write whatever reports you gotta write," he said conversationally, exiting a moment later with an armful of the embassy towels. "And then you're coming to bed."

David blinked, surprised. "Am I now?"

"Yup." Rush grinned at him, unrepentant. "Cause that's where I'll be, and if you're not there then I'm starting without you."

David shucked his heavy jacket of office, and slung it over the back of a chair. "Fifteen minutes."

"Done."

\--

Actually, Dave took about twenty minutes, including the time it took for the elevator attendant to collect the letters and depart again, but Rush figured he couldn't really push for him to work faster; it was already pretty damned cheeky of him to order Dave around.

"What's this?" asked Dave, standing in the doorway of the bedroom and looking surprised.

Rush had scavenged all of the few candles he'd found around the place and now they provided the main illumination in the bedroom; the room was softly-lit and warm, the plush towels laid across the bed.

"I'm giving you a massage," he announced, firmly, and patted the bed next to him. "I was gonna offer sometime this week anyway, but after that dinner, you _need_ one."

"That's… very considerate," Dave said, his voice strung with uncertainty.

"I'm not saying I'm great at them," warned Rush. Most of his experience of giving and receiving massages had been with one ex of his, if he was honest; still, he was adequate, and he'd _bet_ that Dave wouldn't think to ask for something like a massage. "But it'll make you relax, and it gives me a great excuse to put my hands all over your back."

Dave tilted his head to one side. "I didn't realise my back was so desirable."

"Just like the rest of you, yeah." Rush patted the bed again. "C'mon, strip off, lie down."

"So commanding," Dave said, but he willingly got undressed and stretched out as Rush indicated on the towels. Rush spent a minute arranging the pillows so Dave would be comfortable and able to breathe, and then turned back to the oil he had heating gently over one of the smaller candles.

 _Oil your hands not their skin,_ he remembered. He stared at Dave's back for a moment. Jokes aside, Dave really did have a nice back; the honeyed hues of his skin weren't the only reason his torso reminded Rush of the bronze sculptures up at the temples. He looked to be in good fighting shape; Rush wondered if Dave had to go to battle personally sometimes, and if so, what kind of weapon he wielded. Something heavy, maybe. It'd explain the muscles.

Dave was still holding himself rather tensely, Rush realised as he started to sweep long, gentle strokes down Dave's back. Still, it didn't take very long before Dave started to relax, and all that tension became something Rush could _push_ out of Dave's muscles, rewarding him with little gasps and groans as he hit particularly rewarding spots. The bed was, irritatingly, not well-designed for this; kneeling on the bed pressed the mattress down and made it hard to keep Dave's back level, but Rush persevered.

He was working his way back up Dave's spine for a third time when Dave's quiet moans led into a muzzy-sounding "oh, god, _there_ , yes," and Rush's cock twitched in his pants, alerting him suddenly to how ridiculously hard he'd gotten. It felt a little cheap, getting aroused from something that wasn't supposed to be about sex per se, but it was also not very surprising; Dave was _beautiful_ and moaning under his hands and the room smelt of warm skin and oils.

On the next sweep downwards, he let his hands drift down, sliding down onto the curve of Dave's ass; maybe all this contact was getting to Dave too. Worth checking, right?

"Mmm," was the response he got in return, and then Dave lifted his head from his little nest of pillows. His face was flushed -- from being buried like that, or from arousal, Rush wasn't sure -- and his hair was dishevelled, and he looked nearly half-asleep.

"Anything else I can do for you?" Rush asked, as lightly as he could, letting his thumb -- still oiled from the massage -- slide down into the cleft between Dave's buttocks for a moment.

Dave stretched a bit -- a sultry, languid movement -- and smiled sleepily. "Just hands?"

"Here?"

"There." Dave put his head back on the pillow, though he turned to the side so Rush could see his face. "Please."

Rush reached out shakily for the oil.

If he'd thought it was arousing to push knots out of Dave's back, it was _nothing_ compared to seeing Dave bite at his own lip and gasp as Rush gently worked at him with his fingers. This wasn't something anyone had ever done for Rush, except as a prelude to other things, but seeing Dave's shudders of appreciation now… it might be something he'd ask a suitably gentle lover for, some day. It looked like Dave was enjoying every moment of it, at least.

Dave's breathing quickened after a while, and then he reached down and grasped Rush's wrist firmly.

"Stay," he said, his voice soft, pleading. "Just like that, please, just--"

"Yeah?" It was an awkward angle, but maintainable.

" _Oh_." David twisted so he lay on one side, still clasping Rush's fingers in place, and his other hand flew to his cock. A few strokes was all it took, and then he was spilling himself onto the towels beneath them.

"Geez," breathed Rush, feeling the aftershocks in the way Dave kept clamping down on his fingers. "Shit, Dave, you're amazing."

Dave chuckled, and then his grip went from clamping Rush's hand in place to firmly _extracting it_. "I suspect I should be saying that to you."

"Not if you had the view I had." Rush wiped his fingers on the edge of the nearest towel; they'd need laundering anyway, he might as well.

Dave rolled over onto his back, and eyed Rush with an _extremely_ lazy smile, his gaze drifting downwards. "My view's delightful, actually."

Rush glanced down; he was achingly hard and visibly leaking pre-come through the undershorts he was wearing.

"I'd offer to help with that," said Dave, and then he swallowed a yawn and smiled apologetically. "But I fear you've rather exhausted me."

"You're the boss, you don't have to do anything," Rush said; it was a little disappointing, maybe, but Dave was paying and Rush's orgasms weren't exactly a priority. "I can take care of myself, don't worry."

"Mm." Dave stretched again, raising his arms above his head as he did so, and flopping back against the pillows in an ungraceful motion. "I would very much like to see that."

Rush glanced down at himself again, and then back at Dave in surprise. "You want to watch me get off?"

"I do."

It took Rush a moment to get his shorts off, and then he knelt back where he'd been before, ass resting on his heels. He watched Dave's face for reactions to the pose as he arranged himself; he spread his knees a little, and leant back -- if Dave wanted to watch, then Rush needed to make sure he could see properly.

"Rush," murmured Dave, his eyes narrowed drowsily. "As if I'm not here."

 _Stop performing_ , he meant. Rush nodded obediently, and, after a moment's consideration, closed his eyes.

It took him surprisingly little time to nearly forget Dave was there; it was easy to focus entirely on the sensation of his hand moving on himself and the thrills of the cascading waves of pleasure it produced in his body. Rush had never really needed elaborate fantasies to get off to; his body reacted just fine to physical stimulation alone. A thought crept into his head, nevertheless; what did Dave think about when he touched himself? 

As he felt his climax build, he opened his eyes to see Dave still sprawled out lazily on the bed in front of him, though his gaze was rather less sleepy now. Would Dave think about Rush, when this week was over?

"Good?" asked Dave, although the question was so quiet it was nearly voiceless.

Rush gripped himself tightly. "Oh god, yes."

"Then why stop--"

"Checking you're still there," Rush said, resuming his strokes. He closed his eyes again as the pleasure surged up and crested through him, and he was startled by how heartfelt his groan of release was.

Dave helped him clean up, afterwards, and then curled up next to him under the covers.

"Feel better?" Rush asked, as he snuffed out the last candle next to the bed.

"A little. My thanks to you."

Rush rolled to face David. The lights were dim, and David's face was shadowed. "So you're not going to get up and fret over that stuff with Qubine all night, then?"

"...well, I cannot change my nature entirely, I'm afraid."

Rush sighed, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Just… try to get some sleep later, okay?"

There was a pause, and then David leant over and pressed a kiss to Rush's forehead, gently, as he pushed the blankets back. "I promise. Sleep well, Rush. I will see you in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Characterisation requires Dave not to be as much of a dick as Edward is, so the dinner is a lot less abrupt than in the movie. :D)


	5. Chapter 5

Rush woke up to darkness and silence.

It was an incredibly complete silence, once Rush shook off his bleariness; there wasn't even the faint sound of scratching pen on paper in the other room. Rush wondered if Dave had some sort of issue with sharing a bed overnight, and had gone to sleep on the sofa. 

Dave wasn't, however, anywhere to be found inside the suite. Rush even ventured out on the balcony, wrapping the robe tightly around himself. The wind whipped around him; Elysion towered benignly overhead. Hendler -- just visible when Rush leant out over the edge -- was eerily quiet.

Well, wherever Dave was, _somebody_ around here had to know.

"Sir?" The young lift attendant seemed surprisingly alert considering the hour. "Can I help you?"

"Ah, sorry, it's just… the Marquis… did he leave the embassy?"

"No, he didn't." The lift attendant looked thoughtful for a moment, and then appeared to reach a decision. "Shall I show you?"

"Please."

Clattering and thumping sounds could be heard as they approached the small door set in the wall near the manager's office. Rush shot the attendant a wary look, but he just smiled, and unlatched the door.

"He's out there. Go on."

The yard was lit both by the glow of Elysion and, more prosaically, a string of lanterns overhead. In the centre, Dave was practising fighting against a stuffed leather mannequin banded with metal; to Rush's faint surprise, Dave wielded a slender sword and a light buckler. He moved very elegantly and smoothly, like it was second nature to him. The moves looked like they were designed to flow into each other. Maybe it was a training routine.

After a few seconds pause, Dave lowered his sword a little as if readying himself, and then he suddenly launched an impassioned attack at the training dummy. He hit it with enough force that it gave off sparks where his sword-point dragged against the metal. He ducked and span and then sliced and slashed at it repeatedly, enough times to make Rush wince for whoever was going to have to sew the holes in the dummy back together, and then finally he _smacked it in the head_ with his shield. The training dummy fell over with a heavy thud, and Rush didn't blame it for a second.

"Damn," Rush said. "Remind me not to piss you off."

Dave whirled, and for a second Rush could see whatever anger had provoked his flurry of assaults, before he recovered himself. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Funny thing: I was, and then I woke up and worried where you were."

"Ah, my apologies. I did not mean to concern you."

"I thought you were gonna try and rest?"

Dave looked down, almost guiltily, at his sword. "I decided that maybe if I wore myself out, I'd find that easier."

Oh. "Is it working?"

"Not yet." Dave righted the dummy. "I'm afraid I was rather taking my frustrations out on this."

Rush smiled. "It was pretty impressive. Figured you for using something bigger than that rapier, though."

"...is this some kind of obscure innuendo?"

"I _meant_ because you have really good arm muscles, geez."

Dave glanced down at his right arm; he was wearing his gloves and it was criss-crossed with leather straps, but the line of his bicep was still pretty obvious under that. He gave Rush an amused look. "You're very skilled at finding ways to compliment people."

"Only when I mean it." Rush walked up to Dave, suddenly curious. "Hey. Can I see your shield?"

Dave blinked, and then slid it off his arm carefully. "Here."

The little buckler had a fairly simple design but was heavier than Rush had thought; it had been reinforced on the inside. The outside was split and coloured like Dave's jacket, with that same elaborate sword design that Rush had seen everywhere. It seemed to be a theme. "You know, I was gonna get a shield today too."

"Is that so?"

"But I couldn't figure out what to have on it. Like, would it be okay to have Athlum's colours--" and Rush tapped the front of the buckler, "--or would that be sort of weird? Or would it be weirder for your guard to not have those colours?"

Dave lifted the shield out of Rush's grasp, and smoothed his hand over the pattern. "These aren't Athlum's colours. They're those of Celapaleis." He stared at it for a moment. "Athlum's are black and red and gold. My soldiers don't really have consistent shield designs, in truth."

"It might be weird for me to have either set, after the end of the week."

"You could always paint over it." Dave was still looking thoughtful. "If you're hoping to learn the discipline of sword and shield work, I'd be glad to train you in the rudiments. If we have the time over the next few days, that is."

"Really?"

"Certainly."

"...you sure you wouldn't want me to pay _you_ for that?"

Dave laughed. "That wouldn't be necessary, no. It'd be good for me to refresh my skills. Here." He handed Rush the buckler again. "We can run through some basics now, if you like."

"In _this_?" Rush gestured to the robe he wore; it covered him decently from neck to knee, but still, it was hardly battle gear.

"Certainly. There's no guarantee you'll always be properly clad when you need to fight." Dave helped Rush settle the shield in place, and handed him the sword. "Now, the sword you bought was a scimitar, am I right?"

"Right."

"This lacks the curve, but the principles are the same. Guard with your left, strike with your right. Keep your guard up unless you are about to strike; the shield is there to absorb attacks."

"And what you were doing earlier, when you hit with it?"

"A distinctly ungentlemanly move," Dave said, with a grin that was rather sly. "But effective if done right."

Rush held the shield up to about chest height, and brandished the sword. "Okay, so."

Dave walked around him, stood _right_ behind him, and reached out from behind to correct Rush's arms. And then nudged Rush in the back of his left knee, so that he was forced to bend it. Rush only just managed not to fall down completely.

"Hey!"

"You can't stand like that. You need to be ready to move, to be poised." Dave stayed behind him, his chest pressed along Rush's back, his arms pressed along Rush's, gripping Rush's wrists. "Now then. For thrust attacks, you'll need to move like _this_ ," he said, and he moved Rush's arms for him, pulling the shield up and sideways and making room for the blade to stab forward in demonstration. "But for slices you'd do _this_ ," and he pulled Rush's shield arm much further to the side, and shoved Rush's right shoulder forwards as he made Rush swing the blade. "You see?"

It was probably a really, really good way to demonstrate the postures so that Rush's muscle memory would have something to latch onto. But it was also really distracting. The thin cloth of the gown allowed Rush to feel the lines of Dave's body against him, and Dave was really warm and solid. And he smelled a little of sweat, and a little of soap, and just a tiny bit of the oil Rush had used on him earlier. Dave's voice was close enough that his breath ghosted across Rush's neck, and he sounded confident and commanding.

Man. Being this attracted to a customer was… probably going to bite him in the ass, eventually. It was certainly making him feel weak-kneed right now. Damn.

He tried to focus. "Uh. And for slash attacks?"

"Ah, then you'd lift the shield like _so_ , and then, _here_ , and you'd pivot as you moved."

"Huh." Rush took a step forward, and tried to repeat each of the moves in turn. Dave nodded, thoughtfully, and then took up his position behind Rush again.

"Again," he said. "You're dipping the shield at the end of the movement; it'll leave you open."

Rush could feel Dave's body press against his back again, and lost patience. He lowered his arms. "Alright. Look. It's not that you're not a good teacher, Dave, but man, you're way too distracting when you do that."

Dave chuckled, and then there was a pause as he craned his neck and peered down over Rush's shoulder, and then he said softly, "Oh. You're serious."

"As a rock."

Dave seemed to think for a moment, his body held very still. "Hm, well. My old instructor would have told you that you need to learn to fight no matter what the distraction is."

Dave sounded sort of amused, and smug, and surprised all at once. Rush sighed, and lifted the shield again. Fine. He could fight with a hard-on.

"But I'm not her." Dave said, and then his hand clasped around Rush's wrist. "Come with me."

"Huh?"

Dave led Rush over to a small wooden door in the wall and into a dark room. Once inside the room, Dave reached up above his head and fumbled for a moment; a small lantern above the door flared into life. "This is the embassy's own armory," he said, as Rush stared at the neat racks of weaponry. "Mostly these are only fit for practise work, though. That sword goes over there--" and he waved a hand. "My shield comes upstairs with us."

Rush hesitated, and then handed the shield to Dave, who gently laid it on the bench near the door. He slid the sword into one of the empty slots on a rack.

When Rush turned, Dave was right behind him, and for one moment of panic Rush thought Dave was actually going to kiss him. Instead, Dave lifted a hand to Rush's face, and cupped his cheek, and pressed his forehead against Rush's. Dave's skin felt really warm.

"I think that's as patient as I can manage right now," Dave said, his voice very low. "May I touch you?"

Rush didn't trust his voice. He nodded instead, and then fumbled for the ties at his waist until Dave pushed his hands aside and undid them himself.

Dave's hands were as confident as his voice had been, and he pushed Rush's hands firmly away when Rush tried to reach out to undress him in return. And then Dave sank to his knees, there on the filthy floor of the armory. Rush's knees nearly went from under him as Dave's mouth closed around him, and he reached out hurriedly behind him to brace himself on the sword rack.

He wanted to make the moment last, to enjoy this as long as he could. It wasn't easy; Dave kept glancing up at Rush's face as if making sure Rush was into it too. Every time he did, his eyes softened as he saw Rush watching him. Without really thinking about it, Rush shifted his weight so he could support himself one-handed; Dave looked so good, he really needed to touch him. He stroked Dave's cheek, marvelling at how it hollowed and shifted as Dave did obscene things with his tongue. Dave caught at his hand and tangled their fingers together for a moment before pushing Rush's hand up into his hair. 

Rush managed to find enough breath to say, "beautiful, so beautiful." Dave's eyes widened and then crinkled into a smile again in response, and then he seemed to redouble his efforts and forced all conscious thought out of Rush's head as his orgasm hit hard.

As soon as Rush managed to catch his breath, he hauled Dave upwards and then pressed him backwards until they were against the door, managing somehow to wrangle the complicated belt and strap system open so that he could slide his hands down. Dave's hiss of pleasure at the contact, and the way he closed his eyes and tipped his head back as if surrendering completely to pleasure, _jeez_ , it was just too much. Rush buried his face in Dave's neck, before he could say or think anything he'd regret later.

\--

David had turned over every part of the conversation at dinner in his head a thousand times. In the end, he'd concluded, it served him little to speculate on Qubine's motives. The bare fact of the matter was that Qubine was aware of Athlum's push for support and their desire for independence. They must conduct matters with far more care from this point onwards.

A swift counsel in his suite with Pagus and Torgal had led them to one simple conclusion: they needed to at least appear to be complying with the directive Qubine had so-obliquely given David. To that end, it was agreed: they would cancel the less vital meetings that had been scheduled in the run up to Congress. As things stood, Athlum didn't appear to need to canvas for a great deal more favour in any case.

Pagus scurried off to attend to the cancellations, leaving David and Torgal in his suite.

"You look ill-slept, Lord David," observed Torgal. "As has been true for some time."

David slumped back in his chair. "Sleep can wait until after Congress."

"You do have a sudden abundance of free time, my lord," Torgal said, and his ear flicked backwards suddenly.

"I suppose I do."

"And I believe the young man in your bedchamber has finally decided he should emerge."

David suppressed the immediate urge to blush and apologise; he was of age, and even if Torgal knew Rush was a hired bedpartner it would not be a matter David _should_ feel any shame over. "Ah."

"I do not disapprove," said Torgal, as if sensing David's embarrassment. "Nor would any of us; you seem happy, and I assume it is his influence."

"I… thank you."

Rush chose that moment to cautiously open the door from David's bedchamber; his hair was rumpled and he wore one of David's white shirts and the pants he had bought for guardwork. They looked a little incongruous together. Rush saw Torgal and hesitated, his eyes wide.

"Rush, good morning," said David, as gently as he could; Rush looked so vulnerable and defenseless right now. "This is Torgal, one of the four generals of Athlum."

Torgal inclined his head in greeting.

"Uh. Hi," said Rush, looking between them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you if you're working."

"On the contrary," and Torgal bared his fangs in a smirk at David, "The Lord Marquis find himself unexpectedly at leisure today."

"Torgal, I should still review the--"

"Nonsense. It can wait." To David's complete surprise, Torgal bowed to him and then to Rush. "Please, enjoy your day, Lord David. If we require you, we will send out messengers. I am sure it will not be hard to find you."

"I--"

"Good day, my Lord." Torgal strode towards the elevator, the door of which sprang open as soon as he pressed the buzzer. Bowing again, Torgal closed the elevator behind him.

David stared after him, rather blindsided. For Torgal to insist like this was distinctly abnormal. Perhaps David truly had seemed overworked, of late.

"So," said Rush, quietly, and then paused, as if uncertain how to continue. "Er. You don't have work?"

"Apparently not." David glanced over at Rush, who still looked a little wide-eyed and lost. He smiled, as reassuringly as he could -- people were often startled by meeting Torgal, perhaps because there were so few sovanis around to meet. "Did you have plans today?"

Rush shrugged. "I was coming in here to ask what you wanted me to do. I was just gonna go practise in the yard otherwise."

David smiled. "Without me to distract you, you mean."

"I might learn more," Rush grinned at him, unrepentant. "But hey, I could stand being distracted more often, if it ends up like last night."

David felt a flutter of delight at that; it had been a minor revelation to realise that Rush's physical attraction to him was genuine. It wasn't as if Rush had been anything but enthusiastic and welcoming before, of course. But David had been paying for Rush's consent; of _course_ Rush would seem enthusiastic. The discovery that Rush's desire was unfeigned had aroused a keen and urgent passion in David. He had rather surprised himself, if he was honest.

"Well," he said, fighting the urge to tumble Rush back into bed, "in that case, perhaps you should go purchase a shield to practise with." He tipped his head to one side, assessing Rush's appearance. "And, while you're welcome to that shirt, perhaps you might want to buy some clothing of your own? I'd like you to accompany me to some formal events, and I should outfit you appropriately."

Much to his surprise, Rush just ducked his head, and shrugged. "Uh. I guess."

"You really dislike shopping that much?"

"In theory, no," Rush said, and he fiddled with the buttons of the shirt, looking faintly embarrassed. "It's just, uh. Do I look like street trash?"

David's instinct was to immediately protest the absurdity of the question, but Rush looked so subdued that he took a moment to consider. "Not to my eyes, not garbed as you are. Why do you ask?"

"Yesterday, these girls wouldn't serve me, said I was too cheap to deserve their stuff even if I could afford it." Rush shrugged, and tipped his head up a little, defiantly. "It was fine, Izard sent me to Nora, she was cool. It's just... what if the clothes shops think I'm trash too?"

David felt a fierce sense of outrage. How _dare_ anyone be so… but ah, this was Elysion, and people had strange senses of propriety around here. He bit down on his anger; it would serve little, and it would be simple enough to ensure Rush didn't suffer from the same treatment again.

He picked up his jacket of office from where he'd left it the night before.

"Rush," he said, extending his hand out, "Come with me."

Rush trailed along after him out of the embassy, looking rather adorably confused. David took a moment to get his bearings; Tula Street for weapons and armour. In his childhood, when his mother had wished to clothe him, she'd taken him to… ah, Cicmar Street. Presumably that would be a good start for adults too.

The large, gold-trimmed entrance of the first shop he encountered seemed to bode well; images of tailoring equipment were set in relief on the flanking pillars. David allowed the doormen to fling open the doors wide in welcome.

A member of staff, clad in well-cut dark trews and shirt, approached and swept a deep bow.

"Milord Marquis," he began, his voice pitched to ingratiate. "What a pleasure it is to--"

"Are you the manager?"

"I--I am, yes, milord."

David smiled, and drew the manager aside a little, leaving Rush to admire some of the ornate doublets on display. "You see my companion over there?"

The manager, to his credit, nodded without a trace of any opinion showing on his features.

"He is a dear friend of mine, but I fear his clothing does him little credit."

The manager glanced over at Rush. "Yes, sir," he said, smoothly. "He would be a pleasure to dress."

"I would take it kindly if you would treat him with every kindness you can muster. I am feeling very generous with my coin today; I trust you will not disappoint me?"

The manager narrowed his eyes for a second, and then nodded decisively. He beckoned to another assistant, murmured in his ear, and then the shop was suddenly set into a flurry of activity. Rush was bowed to and rather insistently led to a large seat in the centre of the store; he was handed a goblet of wine and told to wait while goods were brought for him to see.

Rush cast an astonished look at David, who smiled indulgently and then retreated to lean against a wall and watch as unobtrusively as he could. The assistants were really very good at this, David thought; they showed Rush images and swatches of fabric and gently coaxed him into providing opinions on cut and style and colour. David rarely had occasion to choose clothing for himself, and had nearly forgotten how elegantly tailors could extract preferences from customers. He wondered idly for a moment what styles he might affect if he had freer rein. Perhaps his tastes would run to the foppish -- there were some flamboyant hats and scarves displayed here that made him smile just to see them.

Rush was suddenly back on his feet, and being asked to try on sample garments. David watched with an amused eye; the tailors seemed as appreciative of Rush's physique as David was, and the cut of the garments they were putting him in seemed designed to emphasise the broadness of his shoulders and trimness of his waist. The pants were less close-fitting than those Rush had worn when he'd been selling himself, to David's relief, but the strong muscles of his thighs could still be easily discerned.

David smiled. Yes. These tailors certainly knew what they were about.

The manager re-approached David, cautiously. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Since it's your coin, the young master wanted me to ask how much clothing exactly should we be providing?"

David looked over at Rush. How sweet of Rush, to not merely assume he could buy as he wished. "Hm. Perhaps three or four sets each of daywear and evening wear." That should be sufficient to clothe Rush finely for the rest of the week, without being so generous as to look like charity. "And smallclothes, hosiery, gloves, neckwear… a full wardrobe, if you please."

"Excellent." The little man hesitated for a moment. "And should we be showing you anything, milord?"

"No, please continue to direct your attention--" and then something vibrantly-coloured caught David's eye, in an alcove at the rear of the store. "Although. If you could spare me just one assistant, for a moment?"

"Certainly, sir."

\--

A hand was laid gently on his shoulder. "Rush?"

Rush grinned up at Dave. "Hey."

"Having fun?"

Shopping with a Marquis in tow to impress the assistants was a pretty amazing experience. It _was_ kind of fun; Rush could tell these guys knew their stuff and wanted to make him look good. But they seemed really keen on dressing Rush up in brightly coloured silks and lace, and Rush didn't think that seemed right. Dave didn't wear stuff like that. Or did he? Rush had only seen him in his formal outfit, or in basically the same thing without the fancy jacket. Maybe Dave dressed up fancier when he was allowed to. "Seriously, Dave, some of these outfits cost more than you're paying me for the whole week. Are you sure this is really okay?"

"I'm quite content to spend money on you," said Dave, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "And I will enjoy seeing the results."

Rush glanced over towards the stack of sketches and fabric to the side; some bits of clothing were being adjusted right there and then for him, but most stuff was going to have to be sent along later that day. "You wanna see what I ended up with, maybe veto things?"

"I'm sure it's fine." Dave crouched down, next to Rush. "But I've just received word that I have to go to the Academy for one meeting this afternoon. Will you be alright?"

"I… think so?" It wasn't like it was going to be hard work, taking a few bags back to the embassy.

"Good. The bill here has been settled; should you add anything else to your purchase before you leave, they can extend you a line of credit." Dave stood up, and smiled. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course."

Without Dave there, it felt different -- the assistants were still super polite and helpful, but it felt like they relaxed just a _bit_ more.

"Sir? How long have you known the Marquis?" one of the girls asked him as she buttoned up his sleeve, her cheeks a little flushed.

"A while," Rush answered, promptly. Vague enough that he wasn't lying, at least. "I'm one of his guards."

"Oh." She flushed again. "That must be nice."

The guy folding up a pair of soft, dark green pants on the other side of Rush snorted. "Please, sir, excuse her. She has a particular fascination with the young Marquis."

"I--" and the girl flushed ever darker, fumbling over the buttons at the cuff. "He is very handsome."

Rush grinned at her, amused. "Lord David has a fan, huh?"

"Sir," she said, looking very embarrassed.

"She's hardly alone, milord," volunteered one of the other tailors. "He may not be Elysion's lord, but he's popular here with all of us."

There was a pause, and after a moment, Rush realised that they wanted him to tell them something, give them some kind of private insight into what Dave was really like.

"He's… he's kind, and generous. He works very hard," Rush said. "And he loves Athlum. They're lucky to have him, I think."

There was a collective, muted little exhalation of agreement.

Dave's young fan tweaked Rush's cuff gently, settling it into place on his wrist. "Is it true, sir, that he's petitioning Congress about granting Athlum independent status?"

The other assistants and tailors made frantic shushing noises, as Rush blinked in surprise. Was _that_ what Dave had been up to with all that work, why Qubine's words had made him so twitchy? Was he trying to cut ties with Celapaleis?

"Even if he is, don't _talk_ about it, Caliena," said one of the tailors, glancing towards the door. "My apologies, sir, of course you can't comment on those rumours."

"Of course not," Rush said, and he grinned up at the tailor reassuringly. "I, uh, heard nothing."

They all fell silent, quietly pinning and folding fabric. Ah, man. Awkward silence. Rush cast around for a change of topic.

"Hey, here's a question for you guys. If I wanted to get something for the Lord Marquis as a gift in return, something small, what would you recommend?"

\--

David stepped out of the elevator and rolled his aching shoulders. Gah. Lord Hermeien was exhausting to deal with, mercurial and sly. David couldn't tell if his promises to support Athlum's bid were genuine, or if he might puckishly choose to oppose it. All he could do was constantly find new ways to flatter and cajole the man in the hope it would be sufficient. The effort left him feeling very weary. Perhaps Rush would be willing to rub some of the tension out of his shoulders again.

"Hey, Dave," a voice called out, uncertainly. "Are you alone?"

"...yes?"

"I'm in the library."

David shucked his jacket as he went, curious.

Rush was lying along one of the wide sofas, nude except for a slim leather band around his neck. It contrasted vividly with his pale skin; the soft light gave him an almost luminescent quality. He looked quite ethereally lovely.

"Oh." David cleared his throat, utterly arrested.

Rush stretched out, his smile sly. "How was the meeting?"

"All the better for returning to this." David wasn't sure he could move; the doorframe seemed to be holding him up. "Is that a new accessory?"

"This?" Rush reached up and touched the choker. "It's for you."

Somehow, David found enough strength to claim his gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this chapter took much longer to write than anticipated, sorry!)


	6. Chapter 6

Rush announced that David should join him in the bath the next morning, and would brook no refusal.

"We do need to be elsewhere this afternoon," David said, as Rush settled himself behind David in the tub, his legs flanking David's and one arm curled around David's waist.

"That's hours away," Rush said airily. "I bet you're already over-prepared for it, and you need to learn to relax sometimes."

The bath _was_ rather pleasant, David had to admit; the water was hot enough to soothe aches David had barely been aware of. He sighed and leant back in capitulation, letting Rush support his weight.

"There we go." Rush ran a hand idly through David's hair. "Feel better?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good." 

"I suppose there is little more I could do beforehand anyway." David sighed again, and stretched his arms out in front of him for a second.

"Are you sure you don't want a real guard with you this afternoon?"

"You'll be fine." David closed his eyes. "It's in the Congress building. I doubt anyone would plan to waylay me there. Your problem is going to be boredom, not action."

"Mm. Okay."

Perhaps that wasn't Rush's concern, after all, then. "Pagus and Torgal will be accompanying me. If you really don't want to attend, then…"

"No, no." Rush shifted, behind David. "You hired me, you want me there, I'm there. And I gotta admit, I'm kinda curious. I've never been inside before and it's nice to have the chance."

"Really? I thought it was always opened up to the public in the summer months."

"I only moved here late last summer."

Somehow David had rather assumed Rush had been born in the slums. "Ah, my apologies."

There was a silence, and then Rush ran his fingers through David's hair again with a low, huffing chuckle. "I'm originally from Eulam, since you're carefully not asking."

"The island?"

"Yup." Rush made an amused sound. "There was a guy I met who visited, I thought he'd be happy to see me here. Didn't really work out that way."

David couldn't imagine leaving Athlum for anyone, certainly couldn't imagine being so reckless as to follow someone across a country without any assurance of their feelings. "Ah. If it's alright to ask, how long ago was it that you, well, started--"

"Doing this for a living?" There was no edge to Rush's voice, no indication that David had asked a question Rush was unwilling to answer. "Six months, I guess? Work's hard to get. Khrynia and I kept squabbling over the couple of shifts we could get in the local bars and cafes, and eventually she told me this was how she made rent most of the time."

David wondered how many others were like Rush, willing to work but unable to find enough. Was it like this even in Athlum? Would anyone be willing to tell the Marquis, if so?

"And hey, I hated doing it at first. But it got easier." Rush made a gesture which sent water splashing past David's arm. "This one time, a few days back, I picked up this gorgeous customer who turns out to be rich _and_ a nice guy. Can't complain about that."

David had to smile at that.

"And what about you? How long have you been Marquis for?"

"Five years." David considered for a moment. "Almost six, I suppose."

Rush's arm tightened a little, around David's waist. "How… okay, I don't actually know how old you are."

"Nineteen."

"Whoa, really?"

David opened his eyes and tipped his head back. Rush looked genuinely surprised, as far as David could tell from this perspective. "Yes. Why?"

"You seem older… well, okay, I guess you don't _look_ any older than that, but I just sort of thought you looked younger than your age." Rush wrinkled his nose. "You must have been really young. Did… does that mean your folks--"

"Yes." It still stung; David couldn't quite handle the pity he could discern in Rush's eyes, and tipped his head back forward again so he didn't have to see it. "It's a hereditary title, and my mother died before my father did."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"I had the Generals; they were already akin to a family for me. They helped raise me, I suppose." David shrugged, and Rush's arm tightened around him again. "I wasn't alone."

"Even so, that's rough." Rush rested his chin on David's shoulder. "You want me to change the subject?"

"Please."

"Alright then. Tell me about… someplace pretty, in Athlum."

David thought for a moment, as the steam curled in front of his face. He pictured Fornstrand as it had been the last time he'd seen it: the windswept clifftops where the vultures nested; the shores on the outskirts where the thorn trees dipped their branches low enough to kiss the water; the way the sunlight fractured into rainbows as it hit the crests of the waves.

Rush listened as David did his best to describe the landscape, his arms wrapped loosely around David and his eyes drifted half-closed. David moved on to describing the broad plains and chasms of Dillmoor, the phosphorescent lights that danced within Blackdale, even the harsh terrain of the Yamarn Plain -- anything to keep that dreamy smile of fascination on Rush's face for a while.

At length, the water cooled sufficiently that Rush was willing to let David escape; David managed to duck out into the main room for just a moment as Rush was drying off.

"Here," said David, holding out the parcel he'd had added to Rush's purchases.

Rush blinked, and lowered the towel he'd been drying his hair with. "Alright, you're officially spending too much on me."

"Is that an objection?"

"Nope." Rush grinned. "I'll survive somehow."

The wrap was fine Balterossan silk, whisper-thin and smooth to the touch. The colour was what had caught David's eye in the store, a vivid scarlet banded with geometric patterns of pure white and black.

It didn't merely suit Rush, it flattered his colouring wonderfully, lending his skin warmth and making copper highlights dance in his hair. David helped settle it on Rush's shoulders gently, tweaking the seams to sit straight and letting his hands linger appreciatively.

"Dave," Rush said, stroking the fabric of the sleeve. "It's gorgeous. I don't even know what I could do to pay you back for this, seriously."

"You like it?"

" _Dave_."

David smiled. "Then that's payment enough, as far as I'm concerned."

\---

Rush was pretty sure everyone could _see_ him gawping as they entered the huge lobby of the Congress building, no matter how much he tried to act cool. He walked three steps behind Dave, as instructed, between Torgal and the qsiti general called Pagus.

"It's to allow the members to meet and relax a little before Congress officially begins," Dave had explained as Rush had helped bind up his arm. "I attended this last year, even before they made Athlum a provisional member. It's a good place to forge diplomatic links with other nations."

They were led into a smaller room, though to Rush's eye it was still pretty damned big. The ceiling was high and vaulted, and huge windows let light stream down into the room. There was a raised dias at the side, where a few musicians were nervously fidgeting with their instruments. Otherwise, the room held a few scattered clusters of people, and servants -- all in green and bronze livery -- were carrying around trays of drinks between the groups.

Rush had expected there to be more people, somehow.

"We're still a little early," said Pagus, quietly. "Lord Hermeien will not be here for a while, I suspect. Might I suggest you approach Lady Bertrude first?"

"Certainly." Dave lifted his chin and his expression somehow _sharpened_ ; and he strode over towards the side of the room where a dark-skinned lady was surrounded by her own little group of servants. He bowed over her hand, and then smiled up at the woman, who looked rather delighted -- and Rush couldn't really blame her -- before he straightened up and then bowed to another, younger girl at her side.

Whoa. It wasn't like Dave wasn't hot enough already, but like this, all steely confidence and charm? Damn.

They followed Dave around for a while, always staying a few steps behind him; Torgal had sternly instructed Rush not to speak unless he was directly addressed, and Rush wasn't sure he'd know what to say anyway. Mostly people didn't pay him any attention beyond a nod of acknowledgement. Occasionally someone would politely greet Torgal and Pagus and Rush, and one man -- the son of Lord Priam of Royotia -- smiled at Rush in a friendly enough manner to make Rush remember that all these nobles and leaders were just as human as Dave, even if they were on their formal and distant best behaviour right now.

Qubine arrived after a while, and he too smiled at Rush before greeting Torgal and Pagus by name. He seemed to be in a good mood, saying that he was looking forward to the music, and even Dave didn't seem to tense up quite as visibly as he had at their dinner as he agreed. 

"The Duke of Nagapur, Chairman of the Academy and Chairman of the Congress, Lord Wilfred Hermeien!" came the announcement, and the whole room turned towards the door as a tall, imposing man entered.

Rush had seen this man before, just once, in a visistone recording of a proclamation about transporter licenses. He hadn't realised how _huge_ the man was; he could rival the huge yama Lord Ghor in height and breadth.

"Ah," said Qubine. "Well, now our host is here, perhaps we'll have our music, hm?"

"Quite so."

\--

Hermeien's entrance couldn't come too soon, frankly. There was only so long David could stay relaxed in Qubine's presence, no matter how affable the man seemed today. And David wanted -- no, _needed_ \-- to take a moment to speak with Hermeien privately, just to try and pry out of him once more the assurance that he would support David's petition.

\--

Qubine, over to one side of the hall, smiled at him in a way that looked _inviting_. Rush hesitated for a moment, unsure -- Dave had gone over to talk to Hermeien, Torgal was conversing with one of the military leaders from an Eastern country, Pagus had slipped off with assurances he wouldn't be long, and Rush wasn't entirely sure Dave would want him talking to Qubine unsupervised -- and then Qubine actually beckoned him over. Damn. Rush pasted on a polite smile and went over, obediently.

"You're that new guard of David's, aren't you?"

Well, that was safe enough to answer. "Yes, milord."

"I don't think I caught your name at our dinner…"

"Rush, milord."

"Splendid. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"It's… it's a really beautiful building," Rush said, not sure what Qubine was expecting of him. He was here to guard David, he wasn't really supposed to have fun. "And it's amazing to meet so many important people."

Qubine just laughed. "Such diplomacy; us leaders are mostly windbags and egocentrics, so you compliment the architecture. I see why David chose to bring you along."

Well, geez, what was Rush supposed to say to that?

"I confess I am very curious about you. As are most of us, I suspect."

"Milord?"

"One becomes accustomed to always seeing the same faces in the retinues of one's peers. You are a novelty." Qubine smiled at Rush. "Is David hoping to appoint a fifth general, I wonder?"

"I'm just a guard, milord."

"Of course." Qubine looked past him for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow. "Ah, and your master is looking for you."

Rush turned, and saw Dave staring in their direction. He looked… like he was trying very hard not to frown. Beside him, Duke Hermeien was grinning broadly, like he'd just had some wonderful news. It looked… kinda creepy, actually. Dave nodded curtly towards Qubine and Rush, and then turned away. Hermeien, after a moment that was just a little longer than Rush felt comfortable about, did the same.

"Between you and I," said Qubine, quietly, "I wouldn't place too much faith in anything that man offered me. I hope David has the same thought."

Was that a hint? Was Qubine trying to use Rush to warn Dave? 

"I wouldn't know, milord," Rush said, hoping that playing dumb would work, and wondering how soon he could get away from this conversation. On the other side of the room, David made a bow to Hermeien, and left his side with quick strides.

"Of course." Qubine smiled, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Go attend your master, young guard."

\--

"Have no concerns, young Marquis," Hermeien said, in purring tones. "Your petition will be fairly heard."

"It is not merely the hearing that concerns me," David said. Hermeien had not been so coy about his support at their previous meetings, damn him. "It is the outcome."

"Of course." Hermeien smiled down at him, and David fought down a flicker of resentment at his inadequacy of height. "Your people long to escape the leash, you have said as much often enough."

"Indeed."

"And yet," and Hermeien's expression turned sly, "I see you are not yourself above being collared, hm?"

David blinked, genuinely confused. "Pardon, my lord?"

Hermeien reached out a finger, and brought it up to just beneath David's jaw. "A trinket, perhaps, from an admirer?"

Ah. The choker Rush had given him; David did not at all think Rush had intended it as a gesture of possessiveness, and David had rather liked the way it looked. "Perhaps."

"One you wear so openly, too." Hermeien's smile shifted, into something oilier. "Take care, wearing that when you also wear the colours of Celapaleis. Some might take it as a sign of bending your knee a little too eagerly to their yoke."

"I find that unlikely." David shifted his weight, so as to allow him to move back a little without seeming to actually withdraw; Hermeien's poised hand was a little too close to his throat for comfort. "It is merely a necklace, my lord, do not read too much into it."

"Ah, but when you arrive with a new companion in tow, David, we all scrutinise you just a little harder." Hermeien reached out, and actually rested his hand on David's shoulder, a gesture that David could only hope seemed avuncular to anyone watching. "And such an attractive young companion, at that. But not Athlumian, from his looks?"

"I believe not."

"A lover plucked fresh from the ranks of your soldiers, hm?" Hermeien's eyes narrowed. "So bold of you, to ignore what dissent might arise from such favouritism. Or what obligations he might feel… under the circumstances."

David managed not to actually show how offended he felt by Hermeien's words, but, indeed, David would never have actually taken up with any of his soldiers for exactly those reasons. "You read more into my acquaintance with my new guard than exists, my lord."

"Is that so."

David considered for a moment; if he could convince Hermeien that he was being taken into a confidence, perhaps he'd be more amenable generally. "He is a hireling, my lord; with two of my generals left to monitor the Jhana uprisings, it seemed wise to add another blade to my retinue."

Hermeien's expression shifted, losing a little of the leering quality that had crept into it. "I see."

"You seem almost disappointed, Lord Hermeien," ventured David, rather relieved.

"Concerned, perhaps," Hermeien said, and he leaned in close. "Is it _wise_ of you to admit someone to your ranks, right now, David? Are you not concerned about infiltration?"

Rush, an infiltrator? David could scarcely imagine something less likely. "Mercenaries forgo political affiliations, my lord."

"Perhaps so." Hermeien's hand squeezed David's shoulder. "Still, have a care, young Marquis, because for the right incentive a man can be induced to do _many_ things."

"I--" and David forced himself to smile blandly, "I understand, my lord."

"Of course you do." Hermeien, to David's relief, withdrew his hand and straightened up, granting David some measure of his personal space. "Which is why you will not be alarmed when I observe that your _guard_ is talking with the Duke of Qubine right now."

David would have loved to have be able to resist looking, and yet, he found he could not.

Rush was facing Qubine, his attention focused on the tiny Duke, and Qubine was smiling with what looking like _fondness_ up at Rush in response as they conversed.

Calm yourself, David, he instructed himself sternly. The conversation was probably entirely innocent. Certainly if Rush were some sort of conspirator, they would not talk so publicly.

"They look quite friendly," Hermeien said, smiling widely. "Don't they?"

Qubine caught sight of David, and said something to Rush that made Rush turn to catch David's eye. Rush looked… almost a little guilty, thought David. He did smile, warily, in their direction, before David forced himself to turn away and feign unconcern.

"Lord Qubine met him at a dinner a couple of nights ago," he said. And, he thought, forcing down his unease, he really was _quite_ certain that Rush had never met Qubine before that night. "It is not that odd for them to converse a little now."

"And you're certain your apolitical hireling is not going to accidentally let anything slip about your planned petition, I'm sure."

"You assume I would tell him anything worth imparting."

"Of course you wouldn't." Hermeien gave him that same, oily smile. "But I must make my rounds as host, David. Please, go enjoy your evening."

\--

Man, Dave was getting quietly angrier and angrier, and Rush couldn't tell why -- and couldn't _ask_ , not when Dave marched them all briskly around from one leader's company to another's, for the next hour or so.

He only stopped when the musicians began performing, a stately piece where the violins carried the melody high above the measured line of the cellos.

"My lord, is everything alright?" Torgal asked, in an undertone, voicing the sentiment Rush was feeling.

"Fine," said David, simply, as if more would be a waste of breath.

Torgal and Pagus looked at each other, and while Rush wasn't an expert in reading qsiti or sovani expressions, he thought they looked quite worried.

"Did Lord Hermeien--?" Torgal ventured, after a moment.

"He did not."

"Ah."

David turned slightly, just enough to direct his words at the three of them. "I would like a moment alone with my thoughts, if you'd be so kind."

"Sir--"

"Must I make it an order?"

"No, my lord." Torgal inclined his head, and backed away from David, as did Pagus. Rush felt Torgal's hand land on his arm, urging him to do the same -- and, though he kinda wanted to stop and try to see if Dave was mad at _him_ or at something else, Rush obediently stepped away.

He did kind of stay nearby, just in case, until Torgal impatiently made a shooing gesture at him. Rush trudged to a nearby pillar and stood in front of it awkwardly, remembering at the last minute not to lean against it. Guards didn't lean. They waited. Rush could wait.

The music stopped, and there was polite applause that led to the musicians striking up another tune. Dave stayed where he was, and as Torgal and Pagus made no attempt to reapproach, Rush figured he couldn't either. Damn. 

He stared at his feet, hoping Qubine wouldn't suddenly decide he needed another chat; if Dave was this annoyed by one conversation, two would drive him--

A shadow fell across the floor in front of him, and Rush looked up instinctively, and then further up at Lord Hermeien's smiling face.

"My Lord," he said, uncertain if he should bow or what, and sort of bobbing uncertainly instead.

"At ease, young man," Hermeien said, and his voice was a lot smoother than Rush had expected it to be. "You're in Athlum's employ, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. Milord."

"Splendid, splendid. And how are you faring at this little shindig of mine, hm?"

"It's wonderful, sir," said Rush, obediently.

"I'm glad to hear it." Hermeien smelled strongly of a rather sweet and heavy perfume. Rush wondered if it was in his hair, too; something had to be making it stand upright like that. "I was just talking about you with your master, actually."

"Yes, sir?"

"He was telling me that he hired you here in Elysion," Hermeien said, his expression just verging on a smirk. "From the streets straight to the bed of the Marquis, my my."

Shit, what? Dave had told _Hermeien_ that Rush was a whore? Why the hell would he do that, after getting Rush all done up like a real guard?

"And now he's brought you to mingle with us up here at the Congress," said Hermeien, and he reached out and touched Rush on the arm in a way that made Rush itch to slap it away. "Tell me, are you intimate with _all_ your employers?"

Okay, thought Rush, trying not to let his feelings show on his face. If Hermeien had to ask _that_ , then Dave hadn't told him, not in so many words. So Hermeien had to be guessing. Trying to get political ammunition to use against Dave, somehow. "Sir, no sir, not intimate at all. Lord David is a good master, but I am just his guard, sir."

"Then more fool him," said Hermeien, and his hand slid up Rush's arm just a little. "If I were to hire you, perhaps we could negotiate a more mutually satisfying deal, hm?"

"Sir." Rush had been approached by some real creeps before, but Hermeien felt _dangerous_ to turn down outright. "Perhaps once my current contract expires."

"Excellent." Hermeien's hand slid down again, a little. "Then I'll be sure to get your guild details from David, when the time comes."

Rush didn't quite trust himself to speak, and just nodded mutely. Thankfully, Hermeien seemed satisfied with that, and left with merely another sly little smirk in his direction. Rush fought the urge to sag back against the column, and instead looked around for a moment. Torgal was visible above a small throng of qsitis, near the Royotian contingent. Rush took in a deep breath, and headed in that direction. If he could keep in Torgal's company for the rest of the evening, he'd be safe enough from Hermeien for now. He hoped.

\--

David managed to fight down his emotions for most of the afternoon, and it wasn't until he and Rush stepped out into the sanctuary of the apartment at the embassy that he realised how _annoyed_ he felt.

Not at Rush, at least not entirely, but with _everything_ , the whole political mess that had him needing to smile at Hermeien's unwillingness to restate his support and Qubine's endless little patronising smiles and the general and continued insinuations from various sides that Athlum as a new and _provisional_ member couldn't possibly understand how matters stood in the Congress yet… after a full afternoon of such treatment, David felt a strong urge to throw a childish tantrum of sorts.

Which was why, when Rush cautiously approached him from behind and laid a hand on his shoulder, David turned sharply and slapped it away.

"Just _don't_ ," he said, letting weariness leak into his tone.

"Hey, don't be mad at me," and Rush looked rather hurt. "I'm on your side, remember?"

"So you say."

"Huh?"

David unfastened the chain that held his jacket together in front, and sighed. "No, never mind. I'm just letting Lord Hermeien get to me; he had me half-convinced you were a spy planted on me for Qubine."

Rush, who had been reaching out a hand as if to assist David, pulled it back sharply. "Shit, what?"

"I can't tell if he was trying to provoke me or if he genuinely thought it useful to warn me of the possibility," David admitted, and then began to shrug off the jacket anyway. "I'm rather at his mercy at the moment."

"Because you're gonna ask for Athlum to be independent, right?"

Rush's eyes were shrewd, when David looked at him in horror, the jacket still halfway down his arms.

"I'm not a spy," he said, holding up a hand as if to forestall David's questions. "I'm really not. But I'm also not an idiot. Geez, Dave, even some of the tailors were whispering about it, yesterday."

"...ah." If it was that widespread a rumour, it was a miracle that Qubine hadn't actively moved to block his plans.

Rush moved around to help David, lifting the jacket enough that David could pull his arms free. "...and, um. You might wanna know, Hermeien offered to buy me. For sex."

"What?" David's first instinct was to assure Rush he must have misunderstood. But… no, Rush _knew_ when people were propositioning him, and under the circumstances, David rather thought Rush unlikely to have made such an accusation up. "I assure you, I said you were a hireling, but I implied mercenary, nothing more."

"No, I figured as much." Rush's expression was wry. "He seemed to think I offered _extra_ services to people who hired me, that was all."

David took a step backwards, so he could sit down heavily on the nearest chair, and brought his hand up to his neck. "I also told him you were not my lover. He rather thought this was a sign to the contrary, though."

"Oh. Um. Oops."

"I find myself liking Lord Hermeien less and less the more time I spend around him," David said. "I wish Athlum didn't need to court his support, but alas--"

"Yeah." Rush wrinkled his nose. "For what it's worth, Qubine said he hoped you didn't trust Hermeien."

David inclined his head to one side. That was a distinctly dangerous sentiment for Qubine to have conveyed to anyone. "What did you two discuss, for him to say such a thing?"

"Ah, he just said I was new, and therefore interesting. And asked if I was going to be another general, and I said no just a guard, and then we saw you looking at us, and Qubine said, uh, hang on. He said something like, he wouldn't put his trust in Hermeien, and hoped you wouldn't either."

David slumped back in the chair. "It is probably sound advice. But from such a source?"

"I'd rather trust Qubine than Hermeien," Rush said, with a shrug.

And that was how David felt, if he was honest. But… until Athlum's independence was secured, David needed Hermeien; there was no man more powerful in the whole of the western Empire, and without him David's petition would be far weaker.

He only hoped Rush hadn't actually offended the man. "Forgive me, but what did you say, when he asked?"

"Who?"

"Hermeien."

Rush pulled a face that managed to express both disgust and resignation. "I said that any contract between me and him would have to wait until my current one expires."

"...would you, once I leave Elysion?"

Rush stared at David for a moment, and then sank down into the chair facing him. "Damn. If you'd said last week, hey, the Chairman of the Congress wants you, I'd have… I'd have thought, can't get much better as a customer. I mean, seriously."

"I see." Well, that was clear enough--

"But now? No. I… it's not even that he's a creep, I've _had_ creeps and men like him aren't that hard to satisfy, just tell him he's great all the time and he'll tip big just cause it makes him feel powerful. I just… no, I wouldn't. Not now."

Oh. David wanted to ask why -- and was about to when Rush stood up, sharply.

"Crap. I should go. Um. I know you've hired me for another couple of days but I… I can't stay here any more. I'm sorry."

David stood up too, bewildered. "Have I offended you, somehow?"

"No, no, it's… Dave, you don't need me distracting you, not now Congress is starting, right? This way'll be good for both of us." Rush was babbling, now, panic rising in his voice. "Please, it's.. I just think it'd be a good idea."

"I…" David could scarcely force Rush to stay, when he was so clearly and urgently wanting to go. "At least let me pay you for your time so far? And you'll have to pack--"

Rush nodded, mutely.

David fetched a pouch from the desk, and pressed it unopened into Rush's hand -- there'd be more than enough. "Rush, go if you must, but please, tell me why?"

Rush looked down at the pouch in his hand, and then sank back down into the chair. "Because I should be fine with the idea of someone else hiring me. Even a creep."

"I… surely you can choose whose custom you wish to accept?"

"Being picky doesn't get you paid." Rush heaved in a sigh. "And this pickiness is not just because I want a fresh start as a merc, it's because I'm too… ah, hell, it doesn't matter. It's probably too late anyway."

David crouched down, and took Rush's free hand. "Then stay. Please."

"On one condition?"

"Name it."

"Never give Hermeien any way to find me if he asks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long; I struggled because, well, it's hard to bend the plot in anything resembling the way Pretty Woman goes at this point when Dave is just not a complete asshole. :D


	7. Chapter 7

Rush woke up when Dave slipped out of bed in the early hours of the morning. He toyed with the idea of getting up and hauling him straight back to bed -- it was still dark outside, and Dave couldn't possibly have gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep, assuming he'd slept at all -- before remembering that Congress started officially later that day. Perhaps he really should let Dave do some work.

Besides, Rush needed to think.

He turned over, and planted his face in the pillow. He was an _idiot_ , he really was. Khrynia had even said to him to remember, Dave was a customer. Not a boyfriend, not someone Rush should be getting so emotionally invested in. Dave had even said, when he'd hired Rush, that he was hiring him _because_ he wanted someone he could walk away from at the end of the week.

And yet, here Rush was, totally falling for the guy.

Crap.

But really, who wouldn't fall for a guy like Dave? Dave was handsome, rich, powerful… and he treated Rush better than anyone Rush had ever been with, customer _or_ boyfriend. It wasn't just the gifts, the money -- it was the whole damned package of courtesy and consideration and kindness. And as soon as Dave had _asked_ him not to go, Rush had felt every fibre of his body tell him to stay. He'd only have a couple more days with Dave. He'd better just... try to enjoy it, to treasure the time he'd have.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, he'd be able to pretend he wasn't heartbroken when the time came to go.

\--

Rush could move with surprising quietness when he wanted to. David didn't hear him approach, and was startled to feel a hand gently brush the back of his neck.

"Working again?" asked Rush, quietly, his hand coming to rest on David's shoulder.

"Always." David stared down at the top sheet of paper; a note to Pagus about the scheduling at Congress that had shoved back their chance to petition until the last day. He nearly pulled another page on top, and then remembered that Rush knew about Athlum's plan already; it was too late for discretion on that front. "It's early for you, isn't it?" he said, instead, glancing outside as he turned to face Rush. "Did I wake you?"

"I don't mind. Congress begins today, right?" 

Rush was wearing the flimsy wrap, belted loosely at the waist; it looked splendidly dissolute in the half-light with Rush's hair all tousled from sleep. David felt a surge of gratitude for whatever had made Rush decide to stay, despite his apparent desire to leave yesterday. "Yes, though a lot of today will be rather tedious from the looks of the schedule."

"Should I get ready to pamper you like hell afterwards? Or are you just gonna wanna go hit things downstairs?"

David smiled. "Neither will be necessary, I hope. In fact, we're going to the theatre tonight."

"To see a play?" Rush's expression brightened from sleepiness to alert anticipation. "Oh, wow. That sounds great."

"I'm glad you approve -- but you will, I'm afraid, still have most of the day to amuse yourself."

"Mm." Rush looked around for a moment, and then folded himself down into a cross-legged seat on the floor at David's feet. "I'll just go practise more, it's fine. Or nap, probably."

"You can return to sleep more now, if you wish." David gave into temptation, and reached out to ruffle Rush's hair affectionately. "You're not obliged to keep to my schedule."

Rush caught at David's hand, and nestled the side of his face into it. "No? How full is your schedule for the next hour or so?"

Oh. David glanced over his shoulder, then at the sky outside, just pinking at the edges with pre-dawn light. There was still a little work to be done; David had rather neglected it the previous night. But he could spare an hour. "I think I could be persuaded to pencil in a brief hiatus."

Rush had apparently anticipated David's agreement; he had both oils and prophylactics to hand, and he coaxed David into passion right there at the desk; there was sufficient space to move the papers aside, and the desk was certainly sturdy enough, and -- as it transpired -- an _excellent_ height for such exertions.

\--

Rush stayed up long enough to make sure Dave actually ate breakfast -- and hauled him onto the balcony to do so, because it was a beautiful morning, the air clear and cool, with Elysion reflecting the soft colours of the sunrise -- and then, once Dave had gone off to work, he went back to bed and slept for a while.

It took him a while to get his bearings when he woke up, and to remember that he'd been awake already that day. He showered the bleariness away, and then stared at the neatly-folded pile of clothing he owned. What the hell did people wear to the theatre? Was he supposed to dress like a guard? Nah, Dave was always very clear when that was what he wanted. And Rush had formal clothes -- so this was probably a good excuse to wear those. He poked at the pile, thoughtfully, and began unfolding.

Twenty minutes later, Izard was frowning at him in the lobby.

"I see what you mean. I am certain no tailor would have intended you to wear that shirt with that jacket," he said. "And there should be a sash, or weskit. And those shoes… no, no."

Rush made a face. "They gave me like three outfits, and I don't remember which shirt is supposed to go with which. Is there, I dunno, a visistone or a book on this stuff?"

Izard sighed, and beckoned over one of the nearby clerks. "If you need me, I'll be upstairs in the Ambassador's residence."

"Are you sure that's a--"

"I fear there is no alternative." Izard sighed. "Go on, lead the way, and I will dress you."

Upstairs, Izard marched straight over to the couch where Rush had dumped all the clothing from the 'formal' bag.

"I was gonna fold everything back up once I knew what I needed," muttered Rush, genuinely embarrassed.

Izard shot him a dubious look, and then picked through the pile, thoughtfully. He made thoughtful noises every so often, stroking the fabrics and peering at the seams. "Lord David picked these for you?"

"Uh-uh," Rush said. "He paid the tailors, they chose."

"Do you remember which tailors?" Izard held up a long, simple, dark red jacket, and flipped it open to reveal a highly patterned azure interior. "Because I might have to pay them a visit myself; these are beautiful garments and you," he waved a hand vaguely in Rush's direction, "are doing them no justice in that mishmash. Take those off, right now."

"Uh--"

"Oh, darling. If you're going to be coy, don't fret, I'll avert my eyes."

Rush snorted, amused, and began to get undressed. "Thank you for helping me."

"You're welcome." Izard didn't look up, he just began folding the clothes and putting them in neat little piles on the sofa. "And I do in fact mean that; it is a pleasure to handle such lovely clothes. To what are you going to be wearing these, might I ask?"

"A play, Da--Lord David said."

"...ah." Izard smiled to himself, and nodded, and reached a hand out expectantly. Rush handed him the jacket and shirt, and began removing his pants too. "I think the navy, then. You do not want to outshine the performers."

Rush handed over the pants. "If you say so."

Izard picked up a whole stack, and turned to hand them to Rush, his eyes tight shut as if he really did think Rush would mind him seeing him in his smallclothes. "Go put these on. If you're struggling, put on the trews and shirt and then come back out with the rest."

"I'm not _that_ incompetent."

"Whatever you say, dear."

Rush was actually quite pleased with how he looked in the glass in the bedroom. Izard nodded in grudging approval when he stepped out into the main room. "Ahh. Far better. You could be a young nobleman at court, in that."

"Yeah?" Rush looked down at himself; it was a shorter jacket this time, in a deep rich navy that had white diamonds embroidered up all one side and down the back and white edges at the sleeve and hem. The two-layered trousers matched, in the same blue and white, and Izard had pushed a vibrant gold and pink waistcoat at Rush to go beneath the jacket and over a plain white shirt. It looked… expensive together, without being at all stuffy. "As long as I don't embarrass Lord David, right?"

Izard gestured towards the sofa, where three neat piles of clothing were folded. "I've sorted them so you don't offend anyone's eyes with the combinations. The brown half-boots go with the left-hand pile and the black with all the others, and if I catch you tying a sash over this--" he waved a hand at the pile where the red jacket lay, "--then I will not be held accountable for my actions."

"You're an actual angel, Izard."

"I know, I know." Izard smiled, his moustache twitching. "Now then. I believe Congress lets out in two hours; the Marquis has asked us to arrange a carriage for you both at that time. Until then, try not to get that beautiful outfit wrinkled, hm?"

\--

Bertrude and Ghor had been right in their assertions; the first day of Congress was indeed a parade of the most humdrum and routine of tasks that could be brought up. David rather thought that a deliberate scheduling choice, to ease them all into the necessary mindset of treaties and negotiations and strategising. The only blessing was that it didn't, in fact, run late; nobody wanted to drag today's proceedings out too long.

Which meant that David was back at the Embassy in excellent time to admire Rush's attire and to draw him to one side for a moment.

"I realised I do not know your last name," David said, quietly. "Without it, I could only grant a one-day pass."

Rush took the papers, his brows furrowed, and then his eyes went very wide. "You got me permission for the teleporter?"

"Being a ruler has _some_ benefits." David smiled. "I can grant anyone a pass for visiting my own land."

"...the date says today. We're going to Athlum _today_?"

"I hope that's alright." It was a ridiculous extravagance from Rush's perspective, David supposed. But one of the privileges of rule was the right to use the Empire's teleporters without fee, and it made as much sense to attend a theatre in Athlum as it would to attend in Elysion.

"It's _amazing_."

\--

Being teleported sometimes made people feel queasy or light-headed the first time; Rush held himself still in anticipation and then realised he felt… fine. Wow. So that was what it felt like to be shifted tens of miles north in a fraction of a second: like a buzzing noise as the world dissolved and then blinked back into existence. It had been a really _weird_ sensation, but it had definitely worked -- one second they were in the big, gloomily lit teleportation centre in Elysion and the next they were in a bright tiled room where sunlight streamed in through tall unglazed windows.

The guards at the door saluted, smartly, as Dave approached. "Welcome, Lord David!"

"At ease," said Dave, waving a hand at them. "We're in good time, Rush -- would you mind walking to the theatre from here? It's not far."

"Sure." Rush glanced at the guards. "I mean, yes, my lord."

Dave's eye twitched, as if he wanted to protest, but he didn't say anything, instead just making a polite little gesture to indicate that Rush should go first.

Rush had seen pictures of Athlum in visistone recordings; the vivid colours of the hangings and drapes that adorned every building and market stall weren't a surprise. What was a surprise was that Athlum was even warmer than Elysion; sunny, dry heat, the sort that baked the ground into dust underfoot. And the market stalls gave off rich scents; the cooling scent of medicines, the richness of spices and the tangs of newly-worked metals. There was a constant background hum of noise, and though Elysion felt like Rush's home now, Athlum felt… invigorating.

Rush glanced up and along the road, to where he knew the city's great Remnant would be.

"God _damn_ ," he said, surprised despite himself. "That is a _huge_ sword."

"Thank you," said Dave, in an amused tone.

Shit. Of course. It suddenly clicked, in a way that it hadn't, quite, before. That was _Dave's_ Remnant, and the castle behind it was _Dave's_ castle, and this, this road was Dave's too. It was all Dave's. Holy crap.

Dave leant in, and said softly, "I'm very fond of her."

"Ha, I bet." Rush watched the patterns of light shifting along the blade; he would bet that it glowed at night, like Elysion did. "It's beautiful. But really, really huge."

"She's always been taller than the tallest building here. And when I bound her, she grew even higher," said Dave. "Which is a good omen, I'm told, supposed to represent my potential to increase Athlum's fortunes."

Rush glanced at Dave. "Huh."

"I suspect, in fact, it may have been more to do with my being a slightly insecure fourteen year old boy at the time," said Dave, smirking slightly.

Oh. Oh my _god_. Dave was not seriously suggesting... "You're kidding me."

Dave tipped his head to one side. "My other Remnant is a giant cannon, Rush. It was rather hard not to notice the pattern."

"You--" Rush realised he was blushing. "Well, but you're not worried about that now, and they haven't, um, shrunk. Have they?"

"No, true." Dave smiled, and then nudged Rush with one elbow. "Come now, if you're done staring at her, my city has more to offer than just a giant sword."

They ambled slowly towards the theatre; the smell of freshly-cooked meats hung in the air near some of the stalls at the side of the road, and after a while Rush's stomach growled quite audibly. Dave had to laughingly assure Rush that the markets stayed open all night, and they could come back and sample things after the play, because Rush didn't think he could bear the idea of not getting to try food that smelled this amazing.

It took him a little while to notice that Athlum's people smiled happily when they saw Dave, like they knew exactly who he was, but didn't bow and scrape the way the servants in the Embassy always did. Every guard they saw en route saluted, and Dave always nodded in acknowledgement, but… people, for the most part, didn't fawn over him or try to approach him on the street.

At the theatre, however, they were ushered in quickly past the line of people waiting at the door, and then led up and through to a little enclosed balcony at one side, at rather an odd angle to see the stage but quite close. Heavy curtains hung on either side, and after a few moments of fussing, Rush and Dave were left to look out into the empty rows of seats.

"We're rather on show up here, I fear," said Dave, quietly.

Well, that figured. "I bet it's a big deal for them, having you come watch, though."

"Especially when I'm the subject of the play, yes. Partially, at least."

Rush blinked, and looked at the little booklet he'd been handed by one of the staff members. 'Defiance', it read, in large golden print, and then below that in smaller letters ' _Petra, Jean and David_ '. "Oh. Who are Petra and Jean?"

"My antecedents -- my great-grandmother, and my father."

"So this is a history?" Rush flipped open the pamphlet. "About Athlum and Celapaleis?"

"It's a comedy, I believe. You said were curious, and this seemed timely, though I will not place any bets on the accuracy." Dave smiled. "The theatre makes a superstition of reserving this box for my use for every opening night, and it's good for me to patronise it once in a while."

The doors creaked open below them, and throngs of people began to take their seats. There were a lot of glances up towards their little balcony as people noticed Dave sitting there. Rush wondered if he could shift his seat back, into the shadowier part of the box.

Dave reached out, and took his hand. Rush blinked in surprise, looking down at his lap, and then realised; from below, and even from the rear balcony at the same level, nobody could see that gesture.

"They're looking because they're curious, that's all," Dave said, quietly. "And they'll stop when the play starts."

Rush squeezed Dave's hand. "Thanks. And Dave, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"If I forget to say this later: this was an amazing day, and I had a wonderful time."

\--

The play was excellent; David sincerely hoped it would get wonderful reviews. It was funny, and witty, and drew upon the last sixty or so years or history to weave together a story that implied heavily that David was as strong-willed as his ancestors and poised to overturn the annexation in a way that neither of them had quite managed. David knew it to be a flattering narrative, and perhaps one that had less inevitability to it than the playwright had implied, but he couldn't help but take heart from it. Even if the play did also poke fun at him for the occasional youthful moment of bravado and pomposity, it was affectionate humour, at least.

David found himself watching Rush's reaction as much as the actors onstage; and occasionally inclined his head to assent that yes, that event had happened when Rush looked to him for confirmation.

He applauded as enthusiastically as everyone else, at the end, and David was amused to see the actor who portrayed him make an overblown gesture of relief at seeing their approval. The most applause was reserved for the qsiti actor who had portrayed Qubine; he wore a blond wig and looked absurd, but had managed to walk a fine line between showing Qubine as the oppressor who still held Athlum's leash and Qubine as he was in truth: a man who had rarely been much other than scrupulously fair in his dealings with Athlum.

"You're prettier than him," Rush opined, as David's actor came forward for another bow. 

David laughed, and felt Rush take his hand in response. That had added another odd filip to the evening for him; they hadn't held hands throughout the entire play, but Rush had reached for him on several occasions, and it had been rather lovely, especially when the play had turned to events like his mother's death, to have someone want to offer simple comfort that way.

"I have like fifty questions to ask now, by the way," said Rush, squeezing his hand. "But can we eat first?"

"Certainly."

Recalling Rush's reaction to the foods of the market, it seemed like a pleasant idea to return there; Athlum did not sleep early in summer, and people often ate at times that would be considered barbaric in Elysion. It was remarkably easy to obtain a few small trays of meats and breads, and then to walk the few yards to the square.

David had been told that the Remnant always seemed different in his close presence, that it seemed more vibrant and more inventive with its display of flickering lights. He was not really in a position to tell if this was true, of course, but he did think the Valeria Heart truly beautiful at night. Rush seemed to appreciate the view, too; they sat with their backs against one of the walls of the square as they ate, so they could admire it.

Somewhere in the distance, faint music could be heard, a soft sweeping beat with warm brassy melodies over the top.

"Right," said Rush, after a few mouthfuls. "So, I'm gonna assume basically everything was true, in terms of, like, the things that happened. The battles, and stuff."

David tilted his head to one side, considering. "Yes."

"Did you really make that speech near the end? The one on the Yamarn Plain, about being young but not so young as to not desire freedom?"

"I'm afraid so," admitted David. "Word for word, in fact. I _was_ only fifteen, and terribly earnest."

"Holy crap. At fifteen I was in school, aiming spitballs at the girl in front of me. You do know you're kind of amazing, right?"

"We lead the lives we're granted." David stared up at the Valeria Heart. "You could have been as serious and single-minded as I, had you grown up in my shoes."

"Yeah, I dunno about that." Rush nudged him, lightly. "Just… um. I think Athlum's a lucky place, with you in charge, that's all. I think your great-grandma and your dad would be proud of you."

David smiled, a warm, _content_ feeling surging through him. "I truly hope I can live up to those words."

\--

By the time they got back to the Embassy, Rush was practically floating with happiness.

If he'd wanted to dream up his ideal way to spend an evening, he wasn't even sure he'd have dared suggest 'go off to visit a foreign country on the arm of its beautiful ruler', but if he was ever asked again… he didn't think much could top it. Dave had been so proud of Athlum, and rightly so; it was wonderful, the kind of place Rush had always hoped he'd get to see -- a million miles away from the placid island life of Eulam, and different even from the impersonal beauty of Elysion's tiered streets.

Travelling had left him feeling dusty and itchy, though, and -- after letting Dave duck into the shower for a few minutes first -- he spent a long while scrubbing himself clean, thinking about the way Dave had held his hand and smiled at him as if he was more interesting than even the play they'd watched. Rush sighed. And then Dave had been so offhand about what he'd achieved, about how he'd managed to inspire armies and lead his people. As if it wasn't that special. As if he thought anyone would have done the same.

When he opened the bathroom door, he realised that the only light left on in the apartment was in the bedroom. Huh. Dave wasn't working, then. Good.

And then he opened the bedroom door, and saw Dave had fallen asleep, propped up on the pillows.

Oh.

Somehow, he'd not actually seen Dave asleep the whole week; he was starting to think Dave was kidding even about the few hours of sleep he claimed to get each night. But here Dave was, actually in the bed, his face relaxed and his breathing even, one arm tangled in the sheet at his waist and the other thrown out sideways across the bed.

Rush sat, gently, next to Dave, and stared at him for a moment. Like this, with his face so still, it was possible to notice little details about his face; the tiny skin blemishes across one cheek, the scar above his jaw, the lines already forming where he frowned too much and pulled the corners of his mouth down.

Funny how noticing the little imperfections just made Rush even more aware of how smitten he was with this beautiful man.

He leant in, without really thinking about it, and pressed a soft, quick kiss against Dave's mouth.

Dave's eyes fluttered open, immediately, and Rush stiffened in place, so close he could see that David's eyelashes faded to gold at the ends. Dave looked so startled and confused that it made something _snap_ in Rush, and he leant in to kiss Dave again.

And oh man, Dave kissed back this time.

Rush hadn't kissed anyone in, hell, months; had forgotten how good it felt to _be_ kissed. And how natural it felt to do so, when you liked someone. Dave kissed like a man starved for kisses, so responsive that it made Rush's head spin.

Rush shoved down all the tangled swirl of questions in his head about why Dave would want _him_ like this, why a man who could surely have anyone would settle for someone like Rush. Questions and doubt could wait until tomorrow.

\--

David woke up, his arms wrapped around Rush and Rush's head nestled on his chest. Dawn's light was just barely creeping over the horizon outside. He felt better rested than he had in weeks, had slept longer and more deeply than he'd managed in a long time.

Last night had been glorious. David did not think of himself as a sentimental person, but that had been lovemaking, not just sex, and it just made further evident what David had found himself thinking already: he wanted Rush to stay in his life, to seek his counsel and to admire his passion and determination for longer than just this week. Rush had brought joy and companionship to him, and David would be a fool to let that go.

He extricated himself carefully from the bed, trying not to wake Rush.

He only realised he'd failed when Rush emerged into the main room a few minutes after him, furled in the silken wrap.

"You're awake," he said, hoping Rush wasn't feeling regretful about last night. "I can ask for breakfast, if you'd like."

"Not yet," Rush said, and yawned widely. "Work?"

"As always."

Rush smiled, and then came over to the desk and draped an arm over his shoulders. "I'm going to miss waking up to see you here," he said, very softly, and pressed a kiss to the side of David's head.

Oh. David took a deep breath. "I don't want that to happen," he said. "I want… I can't stay in Elysion, of course, but maybe if you were willing to come to Athlum, I could provide you a post in the castle and…"

But Rush was already shaking his head. "I'm not going to be kept by you, Dave. Honestly, I can't repay you for all you've given me already, don't make it worse."

David reached up a hand to Rush's mouth. Rush kissed the tip of the nearest finger, almost absent-mindedly, and David smiled. "But you've already given me something money could never buy me."

Rush stared at him for a minute, and then slumped back to sit on the edge of the desk. "I did, and I did it because I'm crazy about you."

"Then come to Athlum." David let his hand drop, to cover Rush's. "Please. If you insist on it, I'll do no more to assist you than furnishing you with another pass; you can find training there, I'm sure."

"Nobody would believe you weren't helping me, though." Rush looked serious, though he let David thread their fingers together. "And will you even have time for me, once you're back in Athlum, once you're back in your normal routine and trying to… do whatever you have to do when Athlum is independent?"

Good points, both of them. Rush's reputation as a warrior would be hard to build, if it was seen as being founded entirely on his trading favours with David. And David could imagine that he would find himself very lacking in any free time or privacy in the forthcoming months, should his petition be granted. Even if it weren't, there'd be repercussions from that too.

"I have no ready counterarguments," he admitted. "I just know that I want you with me."

"Then… let's both wait." Rush squeezed tightly, looking a little startled at himself. "I'll need to train. You'll need to work. And once I'm done, I'll… I'll earn my way to Athlum, properly. And if you still want me--"

David snorted.

"-- _if_ , then we'll work from there. Yes?"

It was a reasonable, responsible compromise, and David had merely a single day to find a way around it. For now, though, he settled for merely holding Rush's hand, and smiling. "Agreed."


	8. Chapter 8

Khrynia actually squeaked in delight when she saw Rush walk into the cafe, and she let Rush hug her despite the tray of drinks she had poised in one hand. 

"You finished up there already?"

Dave had gone off to Congress again leaving Rush with little to do with his time until that evening. Rush had spent a while thinking about that morning, and had decided that Nora might be willing to give him a proper assessment, tell him if he really had any chance of making it as a mercenary. Promising Dave he'd make it to Athlum that way was all very well, but, hey, if Rush wasn't ever gonna be good enough for that, he'd need a backup plan.

Rush had taken a little detour first, though, because he really needed someone to tell him he wasn't dreaming right now.

"Nah, I'm still on hire until tomorrow." Rush glanced up at the clock. "You've got a break coming up, right? I'll meet you outside."

Khrynia actually made him do a little twirl for her outside, to admire his outfit -- layers of blues and soft russet browns, with braidings of silver at the hems and pockets -- before she declared him officially way too well-dressed for Hiraan Street, too classy to fit in down here any more. He also unsheathed his sword a little, just to show her the blade; Khrynia hadn't much of an eye for edged weapons, really, but she expressed appreciation enough to make him feel smug.

"So," she said, as he readjusted the scabbard on his back. "It's, like, F-A-B to see you and all, but should you be sneaking away like this?"

"Heh, he's at work." Rush glanced over his shoulder; they were out the back of the cafe they'd both worked at, and if anyone was listening in then they'd have a hard time over the noise of the kitchen. "Look, it's… I wanted to talk to you about Dave. The guy."

"Well, duh. Let me guess, he's rich and handsome, and you fell for him, huh?" Khrynia rolled her eyes, though she didn't sound unsympathetic. "He's leaving town soon, though, right?"

"Yeah." Rush stared down at his cuffs. "He has to."

"I kinda hate to be the one to break it to you, but he's a customer. And he hired you to not be clingy, and--"

"Ha." Rush had forgotten that. "He likes me too, K, that's not the problem. He asked me to go with him when he leaves."

Khrynia gaped in surprise. "O, M, G! Okay, you need to start from the beginning, and tell me everything."

It took about ten minutes of fast talking to catch Khrynia up completely, including convincing her that Dave really was the Marquis of Athlum, and that Rush hadn't just made that up to impress her. She pulled a face, and inspected him thoughtfully.

"Let me see if I have this down." She raised a fist, and extended one finger. "He has money and connections and stuff?"

"Yeah, totally."

Khrynia extended another finger. "And you think he's cute as hell."

"Hey, you saw him, you know he's gorgeous."

Third finger. "And he took you off to see his city, the place he's most proud of, to show it off to you."

"Uh, I guess so--"

"And this morning he told you he wanted you to go live in his fairytale castle with him."

"...Um."

"And," and she uncurled her thumb, finally, "you said no to that, since, hello, you're an idiot, but whatever."

Rush had a feeling he could see where this was going, and he winced. "Yes?"

"So he offered to just help you move to the same city, and you still said no." Khrynia pulled in all her fingers into a fist, and punched Rush lightly in the arm. "You turned down the dream, what gives?"

"K, I can't just live off him--"

" _I_ could, if it was me." Khrynia folded her arms. "But, fine, Mr I'm-So-Independent, standing there in the shiny new clothes he already bought you, what's wrong with living where he does?"

Rush stared down at himself for a second, and tried to gather his arguments. "He's the _Marquis_ , how busy must he be? I don't want to get there and for him to just not have time for me any more."

Her expression cleared, and she looked like something had just clicked. "You ass, you totally think he's going to ditch you once you get there."

Rush slumped back against the wall. "Isn't he?"

"I dunno. Buuuut let me break it down for you." Khrynia poked him in the arm. "Say he does, but before that, you get to live here or live there. Which one gets you more time being happy?"

That was… a really, really good point. "Oh."

"And you know, it could work. It totally could. You never know. You gotta try, right? Then I can come crash in your fancy castle when I visit."

"Ahhh, yes. Which reminds me." Rush dug around in his jacket pocket; there'd been enough left from the money Dave had given him to cover this, just about. And he'd pay Dave back; this really had to come from _Rush_. "Here. So you can really do it -- go travelling."

Khrynia took the bag in both hands, and frowned at it. "You're… giving me money?" She held it back out towards him. "Weren't you just telling me how taking handouts was bad?"

"I'm not giving it to you." Rush reached up and touched the hilt of his sword, where the orb glowed amber. "I'm paying you for this. I checked the prices in the stalls on Hendler. It's enough to get you going, definitely."

She stared at him, and then weighed the bag in one hand thoughtfully. "...huh. And you thought you could just get away without haggling? Think again, mister."

\---

The Congress discussions were surprisingly invigorating, that morning. David barely had time to be distracted by thinking about Rush.

Until, that is, the late morning break for drinks, during which it became clear that Hermeien was set on monopolising David for all conversations; as soon as anyone approached David, Hermeien firmly and insistently hinted that he and David were discussing private matters and would prefer not to be interrupted.

All Hermeien seemed to want to discuss with David, however, was relative trivialities; the weather, minor gossip about the other Congress members, the decisions they had already made that morning. David attempted to steer the conversation around to more useful matters, several times, to little avail. And he couldn't break away; Hermeien ignored all of David's efforts to excuse himself politely.

It took most of the break, a good half an hour, before David concluded that Hermeien's actual intention was more subtle than it appeared.

He managed to plead a need to consult with Torgal on an Athlumian matter; Hermeien let him do so.

"His grace is finally permitting you out of his ambit," Torgal said, quietly.

"You noticed."

"Is there some matter he's intent on discussing with you?"

"He does not wish me to talk to the other lords without his supervision, I think. I only wish I knew why." David smiled up at Torgal, brightly, so his irritation would not be evident to onlookers. "Our petition is to be heard tomorrow."

"You think his intent is to prevent your canvassing for support?"

"Perhaps." David squared his shoulders. "I do not know if he opposes our proposal now, or if he merely wishes to toy with me. The latter is as likely as the former."

"Might I suggest you not allow him further chances to occupy you so today?"

David raised a curious eyebrow at Torgal, who shrugged.

"It is not compulsory to remain here for breaks, my Lord, and if Lord Hermeien is that determined then I suspect you will achieve little by doing so."

"I suppose you're right." David considered it. The break for lunch lasted a hair under two hours, in the early part of the afternoon. The length was mostly in deference to those Lords accustomed to schedules that involved sleeping through the hottest parts of their day. David had rather chafed at the enforced idleness, but it would allow him plenty of time to leave and return.

In fact, perhap he could return to the embassy to eat. There would be good food there, and -- well, Rush might be there. David had grown uncertain, after their conversation that morning, what the future held for anything between them. Rush had framed his response as a postponement; now David had had time to consider, perhaps it had in fact been a gentle way of turning David down entirely.

Well. If Rush were back at the embassy, David would certainly welcome the chance to spend a little extra time with him.

The gentle tinkling of the bells in the Congress chamber started, signalling that the session was about to resume. David squared his shoulders, and drew himself up. He would not allow Hermeien's machinations to wear him down.

\--

It was stiflingly hot outside, with oppressive clouds filling the sky, and Nora's training yard was dusty, and her little set of exercises and criticisms had left Rush feeling exhausted. It was a good thing the staff at the Embassy knew him so well, because he was pretty sure they wouldn't have let a sweaty commoner up into the Marquis's apartment under any other circumstances. Even the pleasant young lift attendant seemed to be politely holding his breath in the elevator journey upwards.

The shower was _blissful_.

He stumbled across the corridor to the bedroom, towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His clothes went into the hatch in Dave's bedroom, and it was after Rush had closed the hatch up that he wondered if he should tell the embassy staff that he was planning to leave the next day. The two old men who took care of the laundry would need to know, or Rush might not get his things back in time. Rush got dressed, quickly, and scrubbed his hair with the towel fiercely.

"Rush?"

Rush stuck his head out into the corridor, startled. Dave was sitting at his usual desk, writing out a letter of some sort.

"The manager said you were out training," Dave said, with a quick smile in Rush's direction. "I feared I might not see you at all."

"I thought they fed you up at the Congress?"

"I didn't want to suffer Hermeien's company any more than necessary today." 

"That bad?"

"Worse than usual, yes." Dave put down his pen, and leant back in his chair. "So, I sought better company. Have you eaten yet?"

"I… uh, I was just gonna go downstairs, see if the kitchen had any leftovers."

Dave tipped his head to one side, his eyes thoughtful, and then he smiled. "Would you mind if I came with you?"

\--

David hadn't been down into the service areas of this embassy for years, not since he was a bored child wandering aimlessly while his father took care of dull matters of state in the rooms above. It hadn't changed much; brightly-painted walls, well-worn floors, paintwork a little dull but serviceable. People bustled down here; with their marquis and his generals here and the Congress in session, the embassy was a hive of activity.

Rush led him through the corridors, via a path that was a little more indirect that David would have chosen, down to the warm heart of the kitchens.

It was intriguing; Rush could simply ask for meals to be sent up to the apartment. Perhaps he felt uncomfortable doing so in David's absence. David wondered how Rush thought his status compared to that of the cooks and guards and other embassy workers. David wasn't above socialising with the staff and servants in his own castle, but those here in Elysion embassy were too far distant for such familiarities.

But Rush had been hired to be in his service, as had these workers.

Whatever Rush's reasons for coming down here in person, David welcomed the idea. David hadn't notified the embassy that he'd be returning, and so the staff hadn't been expecting to need to feed their marquis. He'd rather they not inconvenience themselves by hastily assembling something they regarded as suitable for someone of his status, when he'd be content with whatever they ate for themselves.

After the kitchens, Rush led David back up and into the courtyard, next to the waterfall. The cooks had wrapped up rather more food than David thought necessary, if he was honest, but it seemed churlish to argue when they were clearly so pleased by the task. Rush shucked his shoes, sat down, and stuck his feet into the pool, grinning at David as if challenging him to do the same. David looked down at his own boots and sighed, deeply, before crouching to unlace them.

The water was shockingly cold, but that was a blessing in the muggy heat that penetrated even to this little sanctuary. He wriggled his toes for a moment, and smiled at Rush, and they unwrapped some of the little paper parcels between them; slices of cold boiled meats, sharp cheese, slices of soft warm bread and a fruit preserve that Rush made delighted noises over.

"Hey, so, I was going to--" Rush began, and then he looked upwards suddenly. "Uh. Was that rain?"

The trees blotted out the sky enough in here that David hadn't really noticed how dark the clouds had become, but now Rush mentioned it, there was a faint pattering noise above them. Rain hitting the leaves overhead. "I think so."

Rush was already gathering up what was left of their picnic; David hastened to help.

They weren't fast enough. The volume of rain hit some critical point where the foliage buckled and let loose a cascade of water; David caught the brunt of it, drenching him rather thoroughly and making him gasp in surprise.

David assessed the damage ruefully once they got under the shelter of the walkway; his shirt was soaked through, though little else was too damp. Thankfully, his jacket of office was safely upstairs; he could just switch his shirt for a dry one and he'd be fit for Congress again.

Upstairs, however, Rush was distinctly unhelpful on the matter of reclothing him, and David couldn't honestly summon up an objection. He returned Rush's kisses with eagerness, and let Rush tow him determinedly towards the bedroom. It wouldn't matter if he was a few minutes late for Congress, not really, and his mood would definitely be all the better for the dalliance.

\--

Rush slid the last strap through its buckle, and stashed the bag under the bed. That was that. Almost everything Dave had bought him fitted easily into one bag. His sword was down by Izard's office; he could swing by the laundry room tomorrow morning and grab anything there.

Dave had meetings this evening, he'd said, but he'd be back from those 'as soon as possible', and he'd smiled softly and tilted his head and suggested that they could have a quiet dinner together afterwards, if Rush liked.

Nora'd told Rush that he had some real potential; more than that, she'd offered to write him a recommendation letter for her old guild. It wouldn't get him membership, but it'd mean they'd give him advice on where to train and would actually let him sit their entry tests when he was done. It was an amazing thing to offer, and the icing on the whole thing was that Nora's old guild was in Athlum. He'd be an idiot not to go, when the world seemed to be conspiring to get him there.

Rush still wasn't sure if he should tell Dave -- he'd started to, at lunch, but then it had rained, and then Dave had been all shirtless and damp and gorgeous and the bed had been right there. Under the circumstances, it had totally slipped Rush's mind. But then again, if he was going to tell Dave, maybe a romantic meal without a chance of being rained on was a better place to do so.

If he told him. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe if he told Dave, Dave would feel pressured to make himself available for Rush more often than he really should. If Dave managed to get his petition granted… maybe Rush should just wait, wait until he was established and until the first burst of busyness around Independence had worn off.

Well, whatever. Rush pushed those thoughts firmly aside for now. Right now, he just needed to doublecheck everything was set up for tonight. The kitchens were ready to send up food whenever Rush asked, and the girls had laughed at him when he'd apologised for not knowing _when_ they'd be eating. There was some wine in a cooling cabinet; Rush still didn't really think he liked wine all that much, but it seemed like Dave did. There were candles, too, their soft light made the room feel cosier and more intimate.

The faint grinding noise of the elevator behind him snapped him out of his train of thought. Dave must be back already. Rush tugged the neck of the crimson wrap open a little.

Wait… muffled noises in the elevator, like a conversation -- had Dave bought company? Rush hesitated, then snuffed out the candles.

The elevator creaked to a halt. The conversion was now entirely audible.

"--Nonsense, I see no reason why the Marquis would object."

Oh no. Rush dashed to the nearest doorway; the library.

"Sir, I really feel--"

The door slammed back. "I insist. Go about your business, and tell the Marquis I will await him in proper comfort. Or must I have you officially reprimanded?"

Rush, as discreetly as he could, pushed the library door as far shut as possible without making a noise, just before the main lights in the room came on at full brightness. The elevator door squeaked shut again, and a creaking noise indicated that the pleasant young lift attendant had given in, and was obediently going back down to the embassy foyer.

And now Rush was trapped in here -- wearing only the flimsy wrap Dave had bought him -- while Hermeien prowled around the apartment.

"Candles," he heard Hermeien mutter. "Still warm." 

Rush cursed quietly to himself.

Hermeien raised his voice. "You may as well come out, young _bodyguard _, wherever you've hidden yourself."__

Oh no. Rush tightened the wrap around himself, and then opened the door properly.

"Well, look at you." Hermeien's grin was nearly a sneer, as he approached Rush. "Don't I recall you saying _'just his guard'_ , hmm?

"Er--"

"So either this is a seduction, or our young Marquis renegotiated your hiring terms." Hermeien leaned in, deliberately letting his gaze slide down Rush's body. "Or perhaps the terms were always more… wide-ranging than you claimed."

"Sir, I--"

Hermeien grinned, widely, and pressed a finger to Rush's mouth. "Ah-ah. Now, it seems the Marquis has been delayed, but perhaps _you_ can keep me entertained in his absence."

Rush stepped sideways, as casually as he could, and straightened his spine. "I am still under contract to the Marquis, sir."

Hermeien's face twisted, almost immediately, into irritation. "And if the young Marquis wants me to support his little request tomorrow, he will know better than to object to sharing his toys."

Was Hermeien serious? "Sir--"

"And you should know better than to deny me. On your knees, _toy_."

Hermeien stepped forward again, and Rush took an involuntary step backwards, flattening himself against the wall.

"Or do I have to _make_ you?" Hermeien reached out a hand, and gripped Rush's shoulder. "Get _down_."

A shove accompanied his words, and Rush's knees gave beneath him.

"Sir, please," Rush started; maybe pleading would work, men like Hermeien liked pleading. "Da... Lord David will be back soon, please don't--"

Hermeien slapped him, hard enough to make Rush actually gasp at the pain. "Shut up. I didn't ask you to _talk_."

Rush nodded, mutely.

"Now," Hermeien said, gripping Rush's hair hard. "Show me why the young Marquis would pay for your company."

A creaking noise made Hermeien look over towards the elevator, and then -- like a miracle, Dave was there, yanking Hermeien sideways, away from Rush.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dave demanded, looking furious. "Get your hands off him!"

"Lord Marquis, calm yourself." Hermeien calmly brushed Dave's hands away from him, and, towering over Dave, he bent down with that oily sneer on his face again. "You can't afford to lose my support now, can you?"

Dave's face went very stiff for a moment, and then, his eyes narrowed in rage, he punched Hermeien square in the nose.

Hermeien crumpled to his knees, his hands clasped to his face.

"Get out of my embassy," Dave said, his voice sounding colder than mountain glaciers. "Now."

"You fool." Hermeien stumbled back up onto his feet, still clutching his nose with one hand. "You will regret this, Marquis."

"Get. _Out_."

Hermeien made a whining, frustrated noise, and staggered off to the elevator. Rush just had time to watch the young elevator attendant try to mask his expression of glee before the door closed again.

Dave knelt next to Rush, who -- and when had that happened -- had half-fallen onto his ass. "Are you alright?"

"I'm... yeah." Rush lifted a hand to his cheek, and winced at the jolt of pain. "Or, ow, mostly. Shit, Dave, you punched Hermeien."

"I… yes."

"...wasn't that really dumb? You need him on your side."

Dave stood up, and held up his hands to haul Rush up onto his feet. "You're bleeding."

Startled, Rush touched his cheek again, and checked his hand. No blood. Huh? He tried again, and this time Dave reached out and gently pushed Rush's hand down to his mouth.

Oh. His lip had split, a little. "Bastard," Rush said, and he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm serious, Dave, you shouldn't have made him angry, he'll--"

"I know." Dave shrugged, looking surprisingly calm. "He'll oppose the petition. But I couldn't accept his support, not at that cost."

"Dave--"

"Please, Rush." Dave indicated the sofa nearby. "Sit down. I'll get some ice for your face."

In the time it took for Dave to return with a napkin full of ice, Rush had made his decision.

"Dave," he said, as gently as he could. "I'm not coming to Athlum."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been forever since I updated. I'm really sorry; there are a bunch of reasons but it boils down to 'life happened'.
> 
> But I'm determined to finish this fic, don't worry!


	9. Chapter 9

Gossip travelled fast in embassies; by the time David had arrived at his emergency meeting with Pagus and Torgal, they'd already heard an abbreviated version of the events upstairs. Thankfully, as far as David could ascertain, it was a reasonably _accurate_ recounting that was making the rounds.

"I do understand how sorely provoked you must have felt," Pagus said, having heard David's own explanation, his expression regretful. "It is, however, desperately unfortunate timing."

"I agree." David sighed, leaning all his weight forward onto the meeting table. "Tell me, both of you, do you think it even worth my attending Congress tomorrow?"

Pagus glanced over at Torgal. "I am not certain."

"You _must_ attend," Torgal said, flatly. "Not attending would be as if you were admitting you acted unreasonably."

"Do you not think I did?"

"No." Torgal placed one hand on David's shoulder, and squeezed it. "Rashly, and without thought, but not without good cause."

Pagus nodded, as if he agreed with this absurd assertion. "How is the young man, if I may ask?"

"I believe he is gathering his belongings," David said, his voice sounding adequately level to his own ears, and at their startled murmurs he even managed a grim smile. "Would you stay, were it you? To be known as the man who provoked this incident, as the reason Athlum lost the campaign it had been waging?"

"--Ah."

"I am alright," David added, before they could ask. "Or, rather, right now I am more concerned with salvaging what we may from this mess."

Torgal nodded. "Well, I believe that informing the--"

A cough at the door made them all look over; Rush was in the doorway, looking apologetic, a heavy bag slung across his back.

"I didn't want to just leave," he said, quietly, as David approached. "Not without saying goodbye."

"I--do you have everything? Have you enough money?"

"More than." Rush grabbed at one of David's hands, and clasped it in both of his. "I meant what I said. I'm sorry."

"I know." And David did, but if Rush wished to rake over his reasons for leaving again, David was not sure he would be able to maintain his composure. "I wish things were different," David said, instead, inadequately. "Promise me you'll find that training?"

"I will. And I'll let you get back to your meeting." Rush's smile looked as false as David's must. "I hope tomorrow works out okay, somehow."

David couldn't help but snort, though he softened it with a smile as soon as the noise escaped him. "Thank you."

Rush let go of his hand, and hitched his bag strap up his shoulder. "Well, then. Um. Goodbye."

"Farewell, Rush."

David couldn't bear to watch as Rush walked away. He retreated back into the meeting room, aware that Pagus and Torgal were trying to mask the pity in their eyes, and hating them just a little for not managing it more convincingly.

"So," he said, briskly, staring down at the table instead. "Our first course of action should be to inform the Congress members individually, so they aren't reliant on gossip alone. Do we have parchment to hand?"

\--

Rush's place felt tiny and claustrophobic now, even without Khrynia there to fill up half the space.

 _This is where you belong_ , he told himself, stuffing his bag of clothes into the closet. _It's where you'd have been all week if Dave hadn't come along and whisked you off into a fantasyland_.

Rush felt like a coward for ending things the way he had. But he knew he was right to do it. He'd only be a millstone around Dave's neck, up there in Athlum. He'd caused so much trouble already. He couldn't imagine how much more of a mess he'd cause if he was known to be Dave's boyfriend, how many people would try and get to Dave through him. Hermeien had been slimy but at least he'd been direct. Other people would be cleverer, and Rush didn't think he could out-think someone who was subtle in trying to cause trouble for Athlum.

From here, he could see the top of a warehouse opposite; it had been caught in a fire, and only half-heartedly repaired afterwards. Smoke had left blackened patches all over it. Rush hadn't really paid much attention before, but right now it felt like a good metaphor to Rush. From up where Dave lived, all you could see when you looked out was points of light scattered across the slums, like a sea of fireflies. It wasn't nearly as pretty up close.

Nothing was. Even Dave -- beautiful Dave -- had little scars and flaws when you got right up close.

Man, he really had to stop thinking about Dave.

Rush sat down, and counted his assets.

One beautiful curved scimitar, the yellow orb glowing dimly in the hilt. A few sets of fancy clothes and shoes. Money -- probably more money than Rush really should have gotten, since Dave had just shoved a few purses at him instead of counting it out properly. 

Nora's willingness to write a recommendation letter was probably another asset if he could find the right angle; surely he could find some way to make that work for him right here. Maybe there was a branch of her old guild somewhere in Elysion. Or maybe she'd let him help out at the store? Tons of guild people shopped there, he could try and get a foot in the door that way.

Rush opened up the money pouches and poured them out onto his bed. Time to get counting. He could take the extra money back to the embassy tomorrow, leave it with Izard. That way Dave would get it before he left Elysion. After that, Rush could go talk to Nora, get on with training, try to forget everything about Athlum and its Marquis and get on with the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath. Everything always felt better when Rush had some kind of plan to try and follow. 

\--

David had slept fitfully.

In truth, he'd expected to sleep a little better; he had been truly exhausted when he had finally attempted to sleep. But the apartment felt echoing, and the bed was empty, and the paralysing grasp of terror kept sending chills through him: had David truly ruined Athlum's best chance for independence? If the petition were rejected, he would likely never have such an opportunity again: David could not imagine Hermeien would permit Athlum to retain the right to attend Congress after this year.

He showered, dressed, ate what he could stomach from the tray the staff brought up to him, and stared out of the window that looked upwards towards the central point of Elysion's temple district.

They had sent out reports to the other lords of the Congress, written with as clear a description of the events of the altercation as David could bring himself to write; he could see no need to explain the true nature of Rush's employment, nor that it mattered how Rush had been attired.

Nor did he think he wished to relate the conversation he and Rush had had afterwards.

David had presented the core facts as baldly as possible, in his own hand and stamped with his own seal. He hoped to give enough context that whatever version of events Hermeien decided to perpetuate would at least be thrown into doubt. David allowed himself to sigh, deeply, just once, wondering if it was all futile. At least he knew he would have the support of Pagus and Torgal; their loyalty such that they seemed willing to forgive him even a mistake on this scale.

There was little for David to do before Congress. He arrived early, however, and sat in his office trying not to distract himself. In desperation, he reviewed all the papers for the day before, a thankless task but better than idleness. An interminably long time later, one of the stewards brought him the day's schedule. The petition hearing was scheduled for that morning; at least Hermeien's retribution would be swift. He frowned at the symbol that preceded the session.

"What does this mean?"

The steward peered down his nose at the schedule. "Open session. Members of the public are invited to attend."

David's heart sank. "I was not informed that there would be any open sessions."

"I believe it was amended last night, sir."

"Of course."

The steward left, and David curled forward over the desk in horror. He let his head knock against the hard surface a few times. Hermeien must be bent on making whatever revenge he had planned for David _public_. If this day could get any worse, David did not want to know how.

\--

"Of course," said Izard, his brow furrowed as Rush pushed the purse across the desk. "I will ensure Lord David receives this."

"Awesome. You're the best, I always said so."

Izard gave him a disapproving look. "And you have no message to leave for him?"

"No." Rush shrugged, trying to look suitably jaded. "Look, it was never going to work out. People like me don't end up with people like him."

Izard's expression didn't change.

"Don't look at me like that. You _know_ I'm right. It was good while it lasted, but--"

"I beg you, please stop talking before I have to revise my opinion of you." Izard shuffled some papers around on his desk. "Are you at least going to watch him set forward his petition today?"

"...huh?"

"The session is open to the public. If you happen to be in the temple district this morning, do consider attending. Many of the staff here are going to watch."

Well, of course they were. This bid for independence was a huge deal for every Athlumian citizen. "Uh. I'll think about it."

"Please do." Izard glanced up at him for a moment. "Should his petition be denied, it would be… better for him, if the audience were of a sympathetic disposition."

...shit. How bad did they think it was going to be? "I--I'll try."

Izard smiled a thin, insincere smile. "Good."

Rather against his better judgement, Rush found himself walking up the broad steps that led from the read of Hendler up to the base of Temple Street. There were notices about the open session pasted all over the temple district, from what Rush could see; someone was very determined to have a large audience. The actual queue, however, wasn't long. Rush argued with himself for a few moments, and then joined the queue.

Once allowed in, Rush found a seat high in the audience chamber, at the front of one of the mostly-empty balconies. The members of Congress were already assembled around the large oval table; Dave, with Torgal at his side, was to Rush's left, next to Qubine and Jiven, and on the other side a woman Rush remembered being introduced to as Bertrude di Balterossa. Tiny Oleabag was across from Rush, and the qsiti facing away from Rush was… from some tiny city-state in the middle of nowhere, shit, he couldn't remember the name now, next to the bulk of Ghor. Everyone had one advisor with them. Rush wondered if that was normal, or if things were more formalised and regimented when there was an audience.

Across from Dave, to Rush's right, was Hermeien himself, his face obviously bruised. Rush squinted. Hermeien looked like someone had had to set his nose for him, so Dave must have hit him really damned hard. Nagapur's entourage must not have very good healers, or maybe Hermeien wanted sympathy more than he wanted healing. Hermeien kept darting little sneers towards Dave, who seemed completely absorbed in reading the sheaf of papers in front of him.

One of the stewards smacked the base of his staff hard against the floor a few times, and the faint murmuring in the crowd ceased.

"First order of business for open session: agreement of imperial tithes for the next year."

A really boring discussion followed, mostly advisors reading off lists of supplies and everyone nodding in distracted agreement to things like five dozen barrels of pressed fruit and threescore bars of oiled steel alloy. It seemed to go on forever, and Rush was nearly asleep by the time the final tithe list was stamped with approval.

"Second order of business for open session: petitions from the Lords of Congress. We have two petitions today. First petition is from Bertrude di Balterossa."

Bertrude stood, and gave a short speech that Rush mostly understood as a long-winded way of her asking for a cut of the profits for all the trade from Royotia that went through Balterossa. When she was done speaking, there was a call for other speakers. When none came forward, there was some quiet muttering between the Lords and their advisors, and then the main steward called for votes in favour -- very few -- followed by votes against -- just over half -- and then a show of hands from those abstaining. Dave, Rush noticed, was one of those abstaining, though he didn't look up once from his papers either during the speech or when the vote was taking place. The petition was denied, according to the steward, and Bertrude sat down again, not looking remotely surprised by the result.

"Second and last petition is from David Nassau of Athlum."

Dave stood up.

His speech was fairly simple, and Rush had heard most of the details before. Athlum's independence was long overdue. In most respects, Athlum operated as an independent nation, with Celapaleis really only exercising control in military and financial matters. Dave had a bunch of documents from various factions; farmers, miners, fishers, woodcutters, all of them in favour of the more streamlined trade systems that would be possible with Athlum as an independent nation.

Dave sat down, abruptly, at the end of his speech. The steward, after a pause, asked for other speakers, and Hermeien heaved himself to his feet with an ominous sort of nastiness on his bruised face.

"My Lords and ladies, and honourable members of our audience. I think I should take this opportunity to ask you all: even if Athlum itself is ready to be independent -- which I frankly doubt -- then would you want an independent nation to be left in the hands of a man like Lord David?"

Dave's face was set in an expressionless mask. The other Lords at the table kept glancing towards him as Hermeien spoke. Qubine was the exception; he stared directly at Hermeien, looking very thoughtful.

"A man, I should inform you all, who is so a puppet of his own emotions that he assaulted another sovereign Lord yesterday. And for what reason? Because of simple jealousy." Hermeien's voice dripped with scorn. "A ridiculous overreaction, I'm sure you all agree. Is that the sort of temper you wish to have in command of a nation? A man who, for the sake of a strip of land or on a whim, might march the entire force of his armies to war?"

Dave looked like he was fighting the urge to say something in his own defense. Rush wondered why he didn't. Maybe there was some rule about Dave getting to speak again, or maybe Dave figured it would do more harm than good. But hell, Hermeien was making it sound like Dave had walked in on some kind of cosy love scene, and Rush really _hated_ the idea that anyone would think he'd have willingly let Hermeien paw at him the way he had.

"That is why, gentlefolk all, I urge you all to decline Athlum's petition. Maybe in a future year, when our Lord David has learned more restraint, perhaps he can be trusted at the helm of a self-governed state. Or perhaps a new Lord might take commend of Athlum's governance, one less hot-headed. Either way, join me in voting against this petition, today."

Hermeien smiled oilily around at the chamber, and then sat down.

The votes began. 4 in favour, including Dave's own. 7 against, including Hermeien, and to Rush's disappointment, Ghor. Two abstaining -- Bertrude and Qubine.

"Petition denied. No more petitions today. Next order of business--"

"Hold a moment." It took a moment for Rush to realise that Qubine had stood up, so tiny was the Duke. "Before we progress to the next item, I request an intermission."

Hermeien's grin was appalling. "Of course. I'm sure you have much you want to say to Lord David."

"Indeed I have."

The steward banged his staff on the ground. "Twenty minute intermission granted."

\--

David let Qubine grab his elbow and escort him out of the antechamber, leaving Torgal frowning in his wake. It didn't seem worth resisting; if Qubine insisted on rubbing salt in this wound, David was numb enough to allow it.

Once they were in a side chamber, Qubine firmly shut the door and then span on his heel to face David.

"Do you need water? You're very pale."

"Ah--no. Thank you."

Qubine nodded, and strode past David to the loveseat near the window. "Come, sit with me."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oh, don't sound so meek. It doesn't befit you." Qubine sat. "I must ask you exactly what you thought to achieve with your petition, David."

Had it not been obvious? "Athlum's independence, my Lord."

"Yes, yes, of course that. But tell me, why did you think a petition to Congress would achieve that?"

An absurd question, strange enough that David struggled to answer it. "Well, it would put you under pressure to--"

Qubine snorted, cutting across David's answer. "When have you seen me cave to mere political pressure?"

"But had you not, then I would have petitioned the God Emperor--"

"I suspect he cares very little for the precise political status of a march out on the Western fringes of his empire, David." Qubine held up a hand, as if inspecting the condition of his fingernails. "Certainly, had you indeed obtained his support in addition to having Congress's approval, I might have been forced to make concessions. But in truth? He would not have interfered, and Athlum would remain mine to retain or release as I chose."

David blinked. So all this had been for nothing?

"This petition of yours was ill-conceived." Qubine delicately began buffing the nails of one hand with the sleeve of the other. "It had no teeth behind it. That is the true reason your petition was denied."

"I should apologise for wasting Congress's time, then."

"Don't be ridiculous." Qubine peered at one of his nails. "How did it feel to punch Hermeien?"

David stared at Qubine.

"You see, I received two reports late last night, as did, I'm sure, most of the Congress," Qubine said, tipping his head to one side. "One claimed that you had walked in on a kiss, and had, in a fit of jealousy, assaulted the Duke. The other report made for rather less fantastical reading, especially having seen how Hermeien acts around those he deems _interesting_."

"I… appreciate your faith in my motivation."

"And you broke his nose." Qubine paused, and looked up at David. "I assure you, that has not earned you any enemies save for Hermeien himself."

David met Qubine's gaze. "He could have me tried for assault."

"You think so? Assault by Athlum's Lord, in Athlum's embassy? Who would try you for such a crime within Athlum's borders, precisely?"

It had not occurred to David until that moment that, within the embassy, he was legally within Athlum's territory. "You could do so."

"I suppose. But I am no fonder of Hermeien than you are. You know, it is a shame there is no visistone recording of your blow. I would pay excellent money to view that first-hand." Qubine actually smiled at David then. "Truly, did you not find it satisfying?"

"No, I… I was mortified to have lost control, even if it was in defense of another."

"Ah. A pity to have wasted such a triumph." Qubine raised one hand, and waved it airily. "But it matters little. I intend to grant your city the status you so keenly desire, regardless."

David tried to take in the meaning of Qubine's words. He must be misunderstanding somehow.

"The status I desire?"

"Yes. I am releasing Athlum from vassalitude to Celapaleis."

This could not possibly be real. Qubine must be joking. David sank down onto the seat next to him. "Are you…. _rewarding_ me for punching Hermeien? By granting Athlum its independence?"

"No, of course not." Qubine patted the back of David's hand gently. "I would never officially condone your behaviour. Still, if you do find a recording, I might be willing to be generous with the borders."

"You can't be serious. I'm hallucinating this entire conversation. I must be."

"The words you are looking for, _Lord_ David, are 'thank you'." Qubine smiled again, and then stood up. "Shall we head back into the session now?"

"I… yes, thank you, Lord Qubine."

"Please, Lord David, we will be equals soon. Must we stay so formal?"

"...thank you, Qubine."

\--

The entire Congress filed out for the intermission. Rush wondered if he should just leave; from the mutters he heard from other audience members, other people were doing exactly that. But this session might to be the very last time he got to be in the same room as Dave, even if the circumstances were awful. He sat back down.

It wasn't very long before the door opened to readmit Qubine and David, with Torgal and Jiven following behind a few moments later. Dave looked like he was… unsure how he felt? Rush squinted, watching Dave closely. And he saw the moment Dave seemed to reach some conclusion in his thoughts, and a wide grin broadened across his face, like he'd figured out a puzzle and been given a huge prize as a reward.

What the hell had happened in that intermission?

And then Hermeien breezed back in, and Dave's expression immediately shifted, like he'd smothered every trace of the happiness he felt to ensure that Hermeien couldn't see it. Hermeien's attitude, meanwhile, was exactly what it had been before: smug, oily glee at having gotten to snatch Athlum's best chance at getting freedom.

The other Congress members returned pretty swiftly after Hermeien did, and it wasn't long before the steward was banging his staff for quiet again. "Third order of business, petitions submitted by public vote."

There followed a number of petitions for things like help for schools and building wells; Rush decided after the first few that it wasn't worth listening, because it was a lot more rewarding watching Dave fighting his urge to smile. Every few minutes, his mask would slip, and he'd hold up his papers in front of his face to hide his smile for a moment before getting his expression back under control. Rush wasn't quite the only audience member to notice; there was a little susurrus every time it happened. Still, Rush was pretty sure _Hermeien_ couldn't see behind Dave's little barrier of paperwork, and that was probably all that mattered.

It seemed to take forever for the session to wind up. Rush debated with himself for a few minutes, and then decided he had to ask.

Getting past the guards and into the area where the Lords were was pretty simple; Rush acted like he belonged there, and nobody challenged him. He ambled around the place for a while, until he spotted the flag of Athlum hanging above a door.

Rush stuck his head around the edge of the door cautiously, not sure if Dave would be happy to see him or not.

Torgal regarded him coolly, from behind a desk piled messily with papers and books.

"Uh," said Rush. "Never mind."

"Rush. Enter."

"No, it's fine, I'll just--"

"Have you recovered? Lord David gave me to believe Duke Hermeien injured you last night."

Rush hesitated. "Do people know it was me?"

"You weren't named in the reports." Torgal beckoned at Rush. "But I would imagine you are the obvious candidate in many minds."

Rush took a step forward, into the room. "I keep thinking I should have done something different, that if I'd, I just let him have what he wanted, Hermeien would have supported Dave today, and then…"

"That is not a price Lord David would pay for the Duke's support." Torgal's eyes had gone very narrow and sharp. "Not from you, nor from any of his citizens."

"Yeah, that's what he said, but, ah. I just, I feel like it's my fault."

"Well," Torgal said, looking slightly less annoyed, "circumstances are not so dire as they seemed earlier. Though if you were seeking Lord David, I fear you are out of luck; he has retired to the embassy, and will be leaving for Athlum as soon as possible."

Rush kinda guessed that Dave wouldn't want to hang around Elysion much longer, not with Hermeien gloating over having gotten his own back. "That quickly?"

"Indeed." Torgal glanced down at his pile of papers. "He has much to do. As do I."

"Okay, okay, I'll go. But, um. Can I ask one thing?"

"If you must."

"What happened in the intermission? Dave looked like he'd won a lottery or something."

Torgal actually smiled for a moment, though he didn't look up. "Unexpected news. Which is not mine to impart, I fear."

"Oh."

Torgal glanced up, just for a moment, and then down again. "Of course, if you were to accidentally see the report left for me, I could not be held responsible for that."

Huh? "The report?"

Torgal flicked one finger, lightly, against the edge of the top piece of paper on his desk, making it slide forward off the desk and flutter to the floor. "Yes. Could you retrieve that for me?"

Rush knelt, and picked up the paper, still a little confused. In large letters at the top were the words WE ARE TO BE INDEPENDENT, so large that Rush couldn't avoid reading them. He looked up at Torgal, his heart suddenly lifting. "Wait. Wait. But the petition failed?"

"Irrelevant," said Torgal, and held one hand out. "It fell to Lord Qubine to make the decision."

Rush stood up, and handed the paper back to Torgal. "Qubine just up and decided to say yes?"

"So one surmises." Torgal took the paper and settled it back on one of the piles on his desk. "Not that I would pass on confidential information under any circumstances, you understand."

"...I get it. Thanks."

"He is at the embassy," Torgal said. "Even if you are not intending to reconcile, I believe he would be glad to see you."

Rush glanced out of the window. "How long do I have?"

"I would suggest you run."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might take a while for the last chapter; the next few weeks are super busy for me. But I'll definitely finish it -- I want my happy ending!
> 
> And I just also want to say thanks to everyone who has left comments and kudos; I've been surprised by how many people seem to like this super self-indulgent story!


	10. Chapter 10

The embassy people had already done a sterling job of packing up all of David's possessions; most of his things had been stowed in the two sturdy trunks he'd arrived with.

They weren't permitted to touch the contents of his desk, however -- a precaution lest anything go missing -- so David pulled out all the stacks of paperwork from the drawers. Much of it would need to go back to Athlum with him, a record of the agreements that had been forged to try and sway the Congress. A lot, happily, could be tossed in the fire soon, irrelevant in the face of Athlum's Independence.

David paused at the thought, his hand atop the pile. Independence, won at Qubine's whim rather than through his own political efforts. It seemed absurd. Part of him felt a little bruised, still, at Qubine's dismissal of all his machinations and plans, but under the circumstances he thought he might forgive the tiny Duke almost anything.

For now, he might as well take all of these, let his clerks at home sort through the chaff. He stowed all of the papers, for better or worse, in his document purse, and slung that on top of his trunk. He stared out of the large window, overlooking the same view of the city as the balcony.

Was Rush down there, somewhere?

Well, if he was, David just hoped he truly was making good use of his earnings. Rush deserved a better life than the one he had described, selling his body on the streets for lack of a chance to do aught else. Rush might become a fine mercenary one day, if he followed his plans. And perhaps, just perhaps, he'd come to Athlum, and they could at least pursue a friendship.

A set of David's usual clothes were laid on the bed, as if the servants thought he might want to change. David considered it, before deciding it wasn't necessary, and began to gather them up to add to his trunk.

Rush's crimson wrap was beneath David's clothing, folded into a neat square.

David's heart seemed to cramp, just for a moment, and he found himself kneeling down in front of the bed, spreading one hand out across the silken fabric. Had Rush forgotten it in his haste to pack? Or had he discarded it, having decided it was tainted by Hermeien's touch?

David crumpled the silk and lifted it to his face, trying without success to catch Rush's scent on it.

\--

Rush liked to think of himself as pretty fit, but _geez_ , all those stairs and alleyways took it out of you, and he'd had to push past and through crowds of tourists in the temple district. And then he'd gotten kind of turned around, and had to double back to find his way down again. At the end of Hendler, he had to stop for a moment, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. Dave had better not have left yet.

He squinted along the length of the road. There was a coach outside the embassy. Shit.

Servants were carrying out luggage; Rush edged past them on the stairs, and then darted in through the open door, bumping into someone who put their hand out to steady him immediately.

"Rush?"

Dave was here, still here, thank all the gods for that, that beautiful face frozen into an expression of confusion and surprise at seeing Rush.

"Dave," Rush started, and then stopped. "I mean, er. Milord. I went to the Congress meeting earlier."

"You did?"

"Um." Rush looked around them. He caught a movement in the edge of his vision as the guards quickly looked away; shit, this was way too public a space. "Can I talk to you in private?"

In Izard's office, Rush closed the door and then stared at Dave, his heart in such a mess he had no idea where to start.

Dave sat down, calmly, on the edge of the desk, his arms folded across his chest. "If you're here to apologise for Hermeien twisting the truth to suit his ends, there is no need."

"Nah. I thought about it a lot, but nah. It's not my fault he's an asshole." Rush leant back against the door, the distance between them helping to soothe his jangled nerves a little. "And a little bird told me you got Independence anyway."

Dave frowned, immediately. "Are the rumour mills working that fast?"

"Probably not? Torgal flashed me the report, when I came looking for you."

"Ah."

"You persuaded Qubine to grant it after all, right? In the intermission?"

Dave smiled. It was a real smile, Rush thought, though Dave looked like he was exhausted. "Not precisely. But yes, it's true: Athlum is to be released."

"That's awesome! You guys worked so hard, you deserve it."

Dave shifted, uncrossing his arms and shifting his weight, so he was holding the table instead, one hand on either side of him. "Thank you. I can scarce credit that anything that happened today is real."

"Yeah?" Rush grinned. "I'm really pleased for you guys, seriously."

"Did you come here just to tender your congratulations?" Dave asked, tipping his head to one side.

"Um, no. Not really. I wanted… I wanted to see you again."

"Ah." Dave's hands tightened on the edge of the desk. "Well then. I am leaving within the hour. What do you want from me?"

 _I want you to still want me. I want you to ask me to come with you again_. But the words wouldn't form properly. "I don't know," Rush said, after a pause that lasted too long.

Dave stood up, smiled insincerely, and gestured towards the door. "I thought not. Well--"

"Can't you stay here another night?" Rush found himself asking, spreading his arms across the door, wanting to stop Dave from leaving.

"Another night?" Dave looked startled. "With you?"

"Yeah." Rush pulled his arms back in, tucked his hands into his pockets, and forced a grin. "On the house."

Dave stared at him, and then shook his head, slowly, his eyes narrowed in a way that Rush couldn't decipher. "No. I must tend to my city, Rush. And you wished to tread a new path, besides. Do not cling to the past, not when your future can be so much more."

Rush felt himself shrink, shame rising up in his spine. "I'm really going to miss you, that's all."

Dave's smile was sad. "And I, you." He held out a hand. "It has been an honour to spend time with you."

Rush put his hand in Dave's, expecting a handshake, but Dave hauled him forward and into a tight embrace that made Rush's throat tighten with sorrow.

"Be well, Rush," Dave said, over Rush's shoulder. "Perhaps one day, if you come to Athlum--"

"Yeah." Rush squeezed, hard, and then let go. "One day."

\--

A long audience session at the height of summer always left David feeling drained, and his throne was an uncomfortable seat. The afternoon sunlight poured in, painfully bright, at the entrance to the hall, turning each petitioner into a slim indistinct silhouette as they entered.

Independence was wonderful, and Athlum had blossomed with its new status, but the business of ruling had to be attended to no matter what. Now the parades and celebrations were done with, David still had to govern his city, and that meant maintaining his usual open sessions for all citizens to bring forward their concerns. At least quiet sessions meant the people had fewer concerns and issues, even if it did mean David's afternoons became tedious from inactivity.

A figure appeared at the entrance, and gave their introduction to Blocter. There was a brief, hushed conference, and then Torgal strode forward and joined them. That was unusual. David squinted; he couldn't really make out the petitioner, not with the glaring light washing them out. A mitra, that was all he could tell so far.

"My Lord," Torgal said, his voice raised to carry across the hall. "I announce young master Sykes to see you."

The mitra-shadow stepped forward, into the cooler shade of the hall proper, and David's heart suddenly fluttered fast and hard in his chest as the features resolved into a familiar face. Was it truly--

"Milord," Rush said, approaching the throne at a pace that was _far_ too hasty for protocol to really allow. David didn't care, was fighting every instinct that told him to rise up and gather Rush into an embrace. Rush reached the stairs, and sank down immediately onto one knee, bowing his head. "I come with a petition."

Emma, behind Rush, had one hand on her sword as if outraged. David raised a hand and waved her down.

"Your petition, then," David said, his voice steady.

Torgal stepped forward. "Master Sykes wishes to be granted leave to reside in Athlum."

David's heart thumped as if it wished to escape his breast. Rush was wearing the clothes he'd worn when they'd attended the theatre here, the clothes he'd worn on the evening when they'd first kissed. Was it deliberate? Was Rush hoping to evoke those memories? And to ask to be permitted to live here -- he couldn't have been trained in mercenary skills so fast, surely?

Emma frowned. "You came to the Marquis with this triviality? You waste his time on--"

"Granted," David heard himself say, over the top of Emma's words. "You may stay."

Rush looked up, grinning his wonderful sincere smile, and David felt himself smiling in kind.

"On the condition you have your documentation in order," he added, because Emma's stare threatened to become openly critical. "No special favours are granted you, only confirmation."

"Of course," Rush said, and bowed his head again.

There was a pause, and then Torgal cleared his throat. "Master Sykes would also like to petition for a few hours of your time."

Torgal's smile was sly, and Pagus's indulgent, and those expressions offset the suspicion and confusion that Emma and Blocter so clearly felt. But David's pride made him draw his head up, sharply. Rush could not merely arrive here in Athlum and expect to tumble David straight into bed, surely, not even if David sorely wanted that too. "That petition will be harder won, I think."

Rush looked up. "My Lord, you granted me a tour of your city once. All I ask is that you allow me to return that favour by escorting you for a while."

Was Rush asking to be allowed to court him? That was a far more acceptable request. "Permission granted, then. I can spare you a few hours of my time, tomorrow. Torgal can verify my schedule for you."

Rush grinned again. "I'll return tomorrow, my Lord."

"See that you do."

\--

"It… it is okay to smuggle you out of the city for a bit, right? Torgal's not gonna kill me?"

Dave looked amused. "I have a guard accompanying me, do I not?"

"You certainly do."

Dave smiled, then, and gestured towards the gates.

The spot Rush wanted to take Dave to was a hilltop, perhaps a mile south of the city. Rush had gotten permission to scout it out when the caravan he worked for had passed through, and he'd known he'd need to take Dave up there if he ever could. It was relatively safe to get to, the wide open plains that Athlum sat on making it easy to spot and avoid fiends, and the well-trafficked road already cleared of most dangers that could arise. And once up there, it was both peaceful and private, a little oasis of calm.

Dave seemed quite happy to amble along next to him along the road, the silence companionable and thoughtful. He raised a single eyebrow in amusement when Rush led them off the road, but he scrambled up the mossy banks and gravel slopes without complaint, and then Rush got to see the moment when Dave looked back over his shoulder at the view of Athlum from the top.

"Oh," Dave said. "Oh. That's…"

"Pretty spectacular, huh." Rush set down his woven pack carefully. "You can see the whole of Athlum from up here."

"I didn't know such a view existed." Dave pressed a hand to his chest. "Goodness. My city is beautiful."

Rush knelt, and started laying out the blanket and food. "I think so too. Just as well, since I'm gonna live there and all."

"Yes." Dave seemed unwilling to stop staring at the city, and the wind had picked up just enough to make his coat flap in the breeze, and he looked _properly_ regal. Rush smiled; Dave, lord of all he was surveying, and only Rush here to see it. "Do I… should I ask how you've effected this change in circumstance?"

"Sit down, and I'll tell you."

Dave made pleased noises over the food -- simple cold snacks that Rush had gotten a cafe to put together for him, and a wine that was probably far cheaper than the stuff Dave was used to -- and settled down on the blanket to eat. "You're going to live in Athlum, truly?"

"Yep." Rush swallowed the bite of bread he'd taken. "I trained a bunch with Nora, and then last week Izard found me a guard job with a caravan that was coming here, recommended me personally and all. And the caravan owner needs warehouse guards, he said. They'll pay me okay, and I found a sort of dorm place to rent a bed in."

"What about mercenary work? Isn't that what you wanted?"

Rush rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm gonna train here for that. I still wanna travel, see the world, you know, but…"

"But?"

"But I want… I want Athlum to be where I come home to." Rush reached out across the blanket and put his hand over Dave's. "With you."

Dave looked down at their hands, his expression hard to read, and Rush wondered if he was going to explain that the _Marquis_ couldn't get involved with a mere warehouse guard. And Rush would understand that, he really would, he'd get it if Dave said _not yet_ and wanted Rush to work his way up to something more prestigious before they could be together. Or if he wanted more time, or if he didn't want Rush like that at all any more. Rush had steeled himself for all sorts of reactions, really.

"A dorm," Dave said, his voice quite light and just a bit shaky. "A shared room, you mean?"

"...yeah."

Dave took a sip of the wine. "I think you'll have to spend most nights in my castle. I don't enjoy sleeping in front of strangers."

Oh. Rush squeezed Dave's hand. "I think I could live with that."

"I'm glad." Dave pulled his hand away, though it didn't feel like a rebuke. "And, as for travel, well. I must visit other Lords sometimes, and I doubt adding another guard to my retinue would be considered too infrugal of me. Would you mind, if I sought to employ you in particular?"

"I… you know what I said, about reputation, and…"

"Oh, you'll have to earn your guild status before I hire you." Dave sniffed. "I am not hiring an amateur when a little time will let me hire a professional instead."

Rush smiled, relieved. "Then, okay."

"We have an accord, then." Dave said, and he shifted sideways on the blanket, closer to Rush. "Now, unless you have other objections?"

They kissed. It had been five long weeks since Rush had last kissed Dave, and already, it seemed, he had forgotten just how sweet Dave's kisses were. Dave's hands slid up beneath his clothes after a while, seeking out more than just kisses, and Rush reciprocated with eager glee. 

Dave pressed him down into the springy grass of the hillside, his hands sliding down and then back, and caressing in a way that made Rush realise Dave's intentions were not the same as any of their previous trysts. Rush's arousal tipped from heated to molten at the thought of being taken; he had, with an optimism that proved justified, tucked both oil and prophylactic into his boot pocket, and he pressed them into Dave's hands before sprawling out onto the grass in invitation. Dave's fingers were confident and deft, opening Rush up and sending ripples of anticipation through him, and Rush scrabbled breathlessly at the ground for purchase as Dave's fingertips fluttered against a point that was nearly too sensitive to bear the contact.

"Like this," Dave said, between kisses and caresses, rolling Rush onto his back, making a pillow of their shirts beneath Rush's spine, settling himself between Rush's thighs. "Let me kiss you, let me--"

It was a beautiful, drawn-out moment, as Dave pushed himself into Rush, seating himself deeply, then kissing Rush with a desperate urgency. Rush sunk his fingers into Dave's ass, pulling him in with each slow stroke that followed, hearing Dave's breath grow more ragged, feeling the tension build between them as their mouths met and parted again and again.

Dave pried one of Rush's hands off him, and redirected it to Rush's cock, their hands moving together in time with each thrust and gasp.

"I love you," Dave whispered, the words nearly lost in the breathiness of his voice. "Rush--"

Rush came, hard, the pleasure spiking through him, could hear Dave gasp sharply and hold himself in place deep within Rush as Rush spilled over their hands.

"--Love you," Dave repeated, slowly beginning to move within Rush again.

"Yes," Rush murmured, before he kissed Dave again.

It took a while for Dave to reach his own orgasm, their kissing and movements unhurried, sticky hands intertwined above Rush's head, Rush's leg thrown over Dave's other arm, the birds singing in the grove nearby. Rush didn't mind at all; the sensation of Dave moving within him felt good, felt _right_ , with Dave's voice gone wordless and breathy and indistinct as he whispered against Rush's mouth, until finally Dave came with a quiet groan and dropped his head to rest against Rush's.

"I love you too," Rush said, running his hand down Dave's spine. "In case you were wondering."

Dave pulled back, and withdrew from within Rush, his eyes lit with pleasure and contentment. "You've made such a hedonist of me. What would my people think of me, cavorting in the open like this?"

Rush grinned up at him. "That you're happy?"

"I… I truly am." Dave dipped his head, but Rush could still see his smile. "Thank you."

\--

The guild tests were quite rigorous, David thought. The guildmaster had generously allowed him to come witness, as Rush and three other hopefuls went through their final trials. So far, there'd been a long physical endurance test where the candidates had run, swum and carried heavy boulders around a course outside Athlum's walls, followed by a series of physical engagement -- one-on-one, then four-on-one with blunted weapons, and now the guild candidates were engaged in a four-way tactical battle with crude models on a game battlefield.

"They fare well," the guildmaster observed. "Your friend has scored enough points so far that he will pass, regardless of victory or defeat."

"I'm glad," David said, his eyes still on the board. Rush wasn't doing very well, to his surprise; David had seen Rush work through strategies more complex than this, in his practises on David's tactical maps.

"And," the guildmaster continued, his voice warm with approval, "he is going to be an _excellent_ leader. Do you see what he is about? He ensures his companions will pass, too."

Aha, that was what was holding Rush back, then; not incompetence, but comradely behaviour. David nodded, his agreement sincere. Rush's good heart was one of the things David loved most, and truly an asset that David was glad the guild appreciated.

The battle wound to a close; Rush taking third place in a scoring array that did, indeed, allow all four of them to pass the requirement for their licenses. David applauded as the certificates were given, and then applauded again as the guildmaster singled Rush out for especial praise, despite Rush's insistence he hadn't done anything the others wouldn't have done for him.

Rush sank into the chair next to David, grinning broadly.

"You passed," David said, fondly.

"Yup. All licensed and legal now." Rush stretched. "And tired. Geez, they don't go easy on us."

"Indeed not. And I have purchased your first contract." David patted the packet of paperwork, on his lap. "You wanted to see Melphina, if I remember?"

Rush's eyes went wide, and he sat up. "Wait, really?"

"Absolutely. Olebeag expects us within the week." David smiled. "Melphina's quite beautiful, but we will travel overland to get there and the route there is hard -- I am not going easy on you either, you understand."

"I am _totally_ down with that." Rush grabbed David's nearest hand. "Have I mentioned that I love you?"

David let their hands join together; Rush rarely touched him in public, and David sometimes suspected that Rush felt their relationship should be a source of shame for David despite David's heartfelt assurances otherwise. If Rush wanted to hold his hand here, in front of his guildmaster and his peers, then David could only hope it meant Rush's new status would diminish those fears, at least a little.

"You mention it daily," David said, smiling. "Come on then, let us begin preparations. We must leave soon, and I will need some time to _fully_ congratulate you on your license."

Rush's grin grew wider. "Whatever you want, Dave."

David leant in, and claimed a kiss that Rush, after a moment's surprise, allowed despite their company.

Independence from Celapaleis was a prize that David had fought hard for, which had been almost snatched away before being benevolently granted, and David was truly grateful to have achieved it. But this love he had forged with Rush… that was, perhaps, an even sweeter prize to have gained. And one David was, he was certain, never going to take for granted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this and gave kudos; I know it took a long time for me to finish this last chapter but I hope it didn't disappoint in the end.
> 
> (And an especial thanks to yukiscorpio for encouragement and beta-reading for me.)


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